Faith in Fate
by elleisforlovee
Summary: After several years, Sybil and Tom run into one another in a situation that can only be described as ironic. Can the person who broke your heart be the same one to fix it? *A sequel to Crash Into Me*
1. Crash Into Me

**A/N** **:** DON'T HATE ME! But this isn't new. Or rather, if you read _Crash Into Me_ (and you need to if you plan to read this) this is the epilogue chapter. I thought it would be odd to begin posting with the scene immediately following without starting here. So here we go. If you didn't read _Crash Into Me_ and your interest is piqued (there absolutely is a bit more MaryxMatthew in this fic and you'll soon find out why), please go read it! You will honestly struggle through this and that won't be fun for either of us...though it's likely I'll be amused.

I originally planned to wait until I completed _A Feeling You Can't Get Back_ before posting this but I actually am taking time off from work this weekend and I plan to spend all of it writing so I'm definitely rethinking that.

Either way, here we go! (Again!) Enjoy!

* * *

While she waited for him, Sybil picked at the cut just below the knuckle on her left ring finger. It was a nervous habit, one she'd adopted to both pass time and avoid the glances of the family members in the nearby waiting room. She found after only a month of clinics that patients and their visitors were not too fond of seeing her or her fellow residents standing around. She was here to learn and sometimes that involved lectures from frustrated professors or the occasional conversation with a nurse who believed she was far more equipped than all of the doctors at handling most tasks. Despite the fast paced nature of the hospital, Sybil actually felt sedentary in many aspects of her life. She was always waiting - first for graduation, then for residency admission and currently for it all too somehow fall apart.

It was possible the nurses were right, evident by this very cut and the way that Sybil, at the top of her class and highly capable in all other aspects of her life, was still struggling when it came to moving patients around on their electrical beds. Nearly a week ago she'd gotten her hand crushed between the bed and a nearby wall. Her petite frame did nothing to aid in her reflex and when she pulled her hand back to avoid injury she instead found swollen, pink skin, and a rather deep cut she wasn't immediately able to tend to. The wound had since softened, but every time it reached its final healing stage, Sybil found herself dissecting the scab. It would scar eventually, she was certain, if only she'd let it get to that point.

When he entered, he did so with a heavy sigh, the large metal doors swooshing shut behind him, waiting for the next patron to request entry. He always had an excuse, one she'd undoubtedly forgive him for. The pair had been undeniably inseparable since their first year at Harvard's Medical School when William transferred in from John Hopkins. He was looking for a friend and Sybil was just beginning to realize that maybe she'd prefer not to spend the rest of her life on her own. She'd spent her formative years in Boston keeping to herself, filling her nights with studying and the occasional Skype call to Mary, Gwen, or her parents. Friends she had time for, and she was increasingly close with her family since moving away but she still believed she had finally found her one true love in life and to die married to your career was not to die alone.

Both Will (a nickname only she was given permission to use) and Sybil wanted to complete their residency in Cardiology and after many applications, the two were admitted into an elite group at London Bridge hospital. Without hesitance, Will moved back to the UK with Sybil where the two shared a cozy flat with Gwen on the other side of the river. It was a near-perfect arrangement, as ideal as something could be for two people on the precipice of success.

"Loo?" Sybil inquired. Will's elaborate tales had her always looking forward to his tardiness.

For a moment he thought that Sybil was referencing the man he'd brought home from the bar last night. "No, his name was Mark…"

Sybil scrunched her nose up in amusement and the two began to walk toward Dr. Frye's office. He was their supervisor: an initially quiet man with an overall small stature. Last week, three weeks into their residency, was the first time they had heard him laugh.

Outside a nearby exam room Dr. Frye stood. Their fellow resident was there already and Sybil gave him a smile just as she always did. Originally this program was only accepting two applicants, but he was a late addition, rumored to have been added on as a result of the donation his family made. It was also worth noting that he wished to study pediatrics but was denied the opportunity by a father who believed this was a better path for him. If anything, Sybil felt bad for him. Her family had been so supportive and she flourished in her field because of it. She couldn't imagine being him, but she certainly didn't treat him differently because of it. Actually, she did her best to treat him objectively, even after all he'd once failed to do.

"Before you say we're late—"

"You're not late," the doctor said, cutting William off. He did not look up from his file. "This is residency. I am not your professor or your babysitter. If someone dies because you had something better to do, then so be it." He paused and finally made eye contact with the paid. "But you're not late."

Sybil and Will exchanged glances, confused over whether or not there was mirth behind Dr. Frye's statement. Silence fell over all of them as William decided to leave the comment in the past.

"And so it begins," Dr. Frye started with a loud exhale. "There will be others but this is your first case and it's likely it will continue as we get others. You'll still have your scheduled shifts on the floor, but with the students being admitted soon, they can take most of those hours over while you work on this."

"And this is…?"

"A patient with a rare heart condition. I'll explain once we get inside and I ask that we're all extremely sensitive as we proceed. He's younger than any other specialist case I've ever handled so you have that in your favor. But still, this is something he's just grasping too and he's agreed to let us try an operation I've spent the past seven years studying. This is a trial and it's high risk."

Without any other word, Dr. Frye entered first, causing everyone else to trail behind. William bumped Sybil with his hip, gaining from her a genuine smile, one he'd perhaps procured for his own benefit. She was far better at remaining calm than he was and while William excelled with patients he sometimes lacked that same charisma with his advisors. His nervousness was balanced out by Sybil's composure. The first thing he'd noticed about her was how self-assured she seemed — kind and lacking pretense. William remembered questioning if this were always the case or if this were a trait she had honed. When they stepped into the room and fanned out before the patient, William was slowly given his answer.

The smile Sybil wore dwindled, the energy it carried being drained from her, taking with it the rouge in her cheeks. Where her hands were previously at her sides she now brought them to her waist, using one to grab at the other, distracting her fingers while her eyes fell to the floor. Still, she felt him —all of him—surrounding her, his crystalline orbs practically begging that she look up. While she kept her eyes trained on the floor, both William and their colleague took notice. Dr. Frye had already approached the patient to take his vitals. Meanwhile, the man on the examination table kept his focus on Sybil. It was joked upon that Sybil's silhouette was rather small but here her emotional presence took on a similar size. Even as Dr. Frye unlatched the blood pressure cuff, causing that telltale scratching noise to reverberate and pull both out of their independent, yet shared, moment the glimpses continued. It was the first time their eyes had truly met and while they took one another in, all other participants did their best to ignore their discomfort and instead examine just how intense this seemed.

The smirk he gave her was dripping with arrogance and he shared it with her before finally looking away. On a night she hadn't visited in quite some time, she hated that very smirk and then several days later she found herself loving it — loving him. It felt so familiar she wondered if that was somehow still the case.

"Before I lay all of his medical history out I think it's best we at least get to know one another. These," Dr. Frye pointed, "are your residents. They have been hand selected to help me with this very operation...though they did not know that until today," he admitted, adding with it a satisfied chuckle.

"William," Sybil's best friend began. He energetically stepped out of the semicircle and extended his hand.

"Tom," the man said simply. Like William, he was not from here and while everyone else processed this, Sybil wondered what it was he had last said to her. He had told her to take care of herself, or something of the like, and she had. Really, she had no other option but she was back to remembering, rather vividly, how extremely painful it was to believe you needed someone to breathe. With him here, she didn't know what she believed but she found herself rooted to the very spot she stood in, too afraid to figure it out.

"Ben," the other resident added, reacting much in the same way William had.

"Ben?" Tom asked. His question was directed at Sybil and only she knew why. While the dark-haired boy confirmed this fact, Sybil also nodded, her lips barely moving as if to silently repeat the name back for him.

She was so lost in the moment she did not move. Everyone else was confused too and to add to the somewhat awkward moment, Tom jumped down from the examination table and extended his hand. His arm was not outstretched though and to do so, his wrist was practically touching the leather belt he wore.

"Tom," he gave.

She waited, asking the room to do the same as if they had any other option. This moment was theirs alone to have and Sybil still couldn't manage much more than several bated exhales. After all these years his name still sounded lovely and he smelled the same and she couldn't help but to notice the added girth in his upper arms. He still dressed well and she wondered if his Range Rover was parked out in the garage or if he had taken the tube in. Did he live here?

Did she care?

Through Sybil's silence Tom found himself immediately moving his glance to her hands. Where once ringers covered each delicate finger, her skin was bare. In particular she lacked a wedding ring, or the pale band that told she wore one during the hours she was not working. How it was the world had overlooked her beauty, he was not sure, and yet it was this that brought back that smirk she found to be so insufferable, that same smirk that had her lips pursing up, avoiding a grin of her own.

She wrung out her hands, debating on what it was she'd give him. A handshake hardly seemed appropriate after all they'd been through and she was halfway between wanting to embrace him or slap him across the face. That anger was still there, and her skin tingled - electricity she hadn't felt in many years bringing the crimson color back to her cheeks. She rubbed her fingers together, performing the same nervous task from earlier. That skin on her finger was so rough, ready to harden completely.

Then, with no real explanation, she picked at it, causing the blood beneath to surface. It was such an active decision she had made; she chose not to let that scab heal just as she chose to never fully forget him. Caused by nervousness she'd accepted pain when recovery was mere steps away.

"Hi," she whispered back.

* * *

x. Elle


	2. How It Seems

**A/N :** Soooo I haven't finished _A Feeling You Can't Get Back_ but after all the positive feedback I couldn't wait any longer and wanted to write this. I've been so excited to share this and I'm beyond grateful that you all seem to be just as excited to read.

I'm looking forward to hearing your feedback. Enjoy!

* * *

He had no other choice; Tom had to focus on his breathing. His other option was to gawk at Sybil, each blink intensifying the smirk he wore in her direction. Soon though, as his lungs contracted and the blood rushing through his veins slowed to a consistent flow, he stared straight ahead. The smile was gone and his eyes remained affixed to the wall, an action that seemed quite normal as it stood in stark contrast to the moment he and Sybil had just shared.

Dr. Frye removed his stethoscope from his ears and wrapped the instrument around his neck. He turned back to his residents, doing so in a calm manner that had Tom more uneasy than amused. He had worked with Dr. Frye for over a month now, paperwork mostly, and he still had yet to figure the man out.

"Tom is 36," he stated flatly before turning back to his patient.

In a way that continued to confuse Tom, the doctor began to ask questions he already knew the answer to. "Average amount of weekly exercise?"

Despite having answers, Tom still hesitated. "Uhh...I don't know. Eight? Ten? Depends on the week, I guess..."

"Do you drink?"

Tom smirked. "Doesn't everybody?"

Dr. Frye paused and gave him a scolding glance. He continued: "Smoke?"

"Yes. Though not as much as I drink." It was this truth that had Sybil looking up. Her eyes caught his and the two exchanged roles as Tom diverted his eyes toward the cold, sterile hospital floor.

Beside Sybil, William and Ben stood, listening intently and doing so with little emotion on their faces. Ben did his best to remain stoic but he kept fidgeting, moving his hands in and out of the pockets of his scrubs. Tom wondered if the boy wished he had a pad of paper to write all of this down.

"Recreational drug usage?"

Tom gave a scoff. "No."

"Sexually active?"

"Yes."

There was no hesitation there, causing Sybil to swallow hard. Her throat was dry and she did her best to remember what it was she had eaten for breakfast that morning. She'd only just finished her first cup of tea and was already craving the next one. Her mind searched for anything, grabbing onto any stray thought to keep herself from caring. She was a doctor now, disregarding feelings so she could instead focus on how the organ truly functioned. It was actually after Tom that Sybil truly consumed herself with the study of the heart, learning and appreciating that it was anatomy, not emotion, that sustained life.

"Current symptoms?"

"Symptoms? I feel fine."

Dr. Frye glared at Tom, causing him to change his answer. "I feel fine _now_ ," he emphasized.

"Last time you had symptoms?"

"I nearly passed out last week."

"What were you doing?"

Tom sighed again. "Football. After work. Rush of blood to the head and it all went black. Pretty typical."

"But not normal," Dr. Frye added. "How has your blood pressure been?"

"High. As usual. But it was high before—"

Dr. Frye turned away from Tom and back to his students. "Despite what Mr. Branson chooses to believe, he was in fact born with this condition."

"There's no name for it," Sybil blurted out. Tom looked to her, having to lean back to do so. She felt everyone staring so she continued. "I mean...it's not something that we've studied. There doesn't...it's not...what is it?" she stammered, almost sounding frustrated.

Dr. Frye grinned at Sybil, the whole room pausing, and Tom took a moment to size the man up. He'd been here before, not in this room but with this very emotion, in a cinema once and then on a university campus several times — jealous. Somehow though, his was more offensive. Sybil was older now and he assumed it was common for men to appreciate her for more than just her looks.

"I haven't given it a name yet," Dr, Frye said simply, still smiling. It was the most expressive Tom had ever seen the doctor.

"What makes it different than VSD?" she countered quickly.

"What the hell is VSD?" Tom asked.

Dr. Frye turned back to his patient. "Ventricular Septal Defect. It's a hole in the ventricles."

"Then there's ASD," Sybil explained, as if recounting something she once remembered for an exam. "Atrial Septal Defect. A hole in the atria."

"It's in his aorta…"

"Aortic tears are common in cardiac patients," William said, finally entering the conversation. Ben, however, remained motionless - silently observing.

"Not at 36," Dr. Frye explained.

"Well what about genetics? If it's congenital—"

"It's not a tear, it's a hole," Sybil said, looking to her best friend. As if to accept defeat, William rolled his lips inward and nodded. When Dr. Frye returned his attention to Tom, she mouthed a slow apology.

"Surgery is set for six months from now. The date is tentative but we're looking at mid-June."

"I have that thing," Sybil reminded in haste. Everyone looked to her again, even Tom.

"Thing?" the doctor asked, needing clarification.

"That thing," she repeated back to her mentor. "I've told you about—"

"Ahhhh. Yesss...the _thing_ ," Dr. Frye recalled, slightly mocking his female student. "How could I forget? You'll be able to attend your thing," he assured, still in jest.

Sybil made a face that nearly had Tom letting out a laugh. How it was that she could go from being so intensely intelligent to displaying a somewhat immature face to express her discomfort had him more than entertained. He convinced himself this would have been the case even if the two had never met.

"So we'll be meeting every other morning. I may add extra check-ups as we start your medicinal cycles."

"When will that be?" Tom inquired.

"Several weeks."

"That's the start of the semester. Can't we—"

"No."

"Alright then…"

Dr. Frye took out his clipboard once more. "8AM every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until March. Extensive testing will only happen on Mondays so we can have your results by Friday. We'll take blood every Wednesday. X-rays will be as needed...I don't expect too many of those." He put the file down. "Any questions for me?"

Tom gave a condescending smile. "Nope."

Dr. Frye looked to the residents. "Any questions? For me or for Mr. Branson?" he added. When they all remained silent, he folded the file under his arm and headed for the door. "Out you go. Thank you, Mr. Branson." Tom jumped down and grabbed his bag from the floor. He fixed the strap on his shoulder and headed immediately for the door. "Sybil, Ben, and William, please be prompt for your 1 o'clock…" he reminded.

They all filed out after Tom, Ben first and then Sybil and William following as a pair behind. Already the two were discussing lunch; food was a popular distractor when a majority of your days, at least five a week, were spent in a hospital.

Amidst their laughter, neither saw the way Dr. Frye stood waiting at the door. Because of this, they did not expect the way the surgeon beckoned Sybil, requesting her presence much earlier than planned. Tom heard the exchange but only briefly glanced over his shoulder to confirm.

Sybil pressed a hand to William's arm, most likely telling him she'd catch up with him soon, before shuffling back toward Dr. Frye. She stood nervously before him, wondering if he'd ask her not to challenge his diagnosis, especially in front of patients. When he did not and instead took the conversation in an entirely different direction, she was initially thankful. They had existed together like this many times before and she constantly feared she was annoying the doctor and therefore failing to prove herself to him.

"Are you okay?"

Sybil paused. It was the first time he'd ever addressed her wellbeing. "Um...what?"

He sighed out. "I don't want details and even if I did, I don't expect you to give them to me, but I genuinely need to know that you're okay. If you're not going to be able to participate in this study then I need to know now. I have a friend at Uni-College and I could probably get you in with him if—"

"Wh...what?" she asked again.

"Tom. You know Tom, correct?"

Sybil nodded. "I do. I mean...we used to know one another. But that was a long time ago," she swore.

"Again, I don't need to know. It's actually probably best that I don't. I just...I can't have any emotional investments. You know what the handbook says about doctor-patient relations. Regardless, this is serious and even…" His disposition changed. "Tom could die, Sybil. I'm sure you've figured that by now but it's important that you truly understand what that means. I can't have you caring either way—"

"Caring? I'm a doctor. It's my job to care."

"You care about his heart. Nothing more."

Sybil averted her eyes. "Of course. I mean...it was a long time ago. We don't know one another now. I haven't seen him in several years and it was just a shock."

"Fine," he accepted. "And I don't need to worry about any reunions?"

"Well we've reunited. Clearly," Sybil returned, now with a bit of edge. She was uncomfortable with this discussion, afraid it showed her as anything less than capable.

"I can't have you—"

"Fine! Of course," she assured. "I'm sorry but...it doesn't matter. I swear to you. I've been waiting for this assignment for over a year now. I've worked really hard to be here and I'm not going to do anything to ruin that."

Dr. Frye nodded once more. "Well good. I won't bring it up again. I...I trust you," he revealed, wondering if he was breaking a similar rule, one that told of lines that were meant to be drawn between PhDs and their residents.

Sybil nodded too. "Good." Then: "Thank you."

"I'm rooting for you, Sybil."

His admission chilled her to her core. "Well that's...that's a lot of pressure," she admitted, all with a small laugh.

"No more pressure than you put on yourself."

"Fair enough."

"You can go now," he stated awkwardly. "I just wanted to get all of that out of the way…"

"You're not going to talk to Tom, are you?" When Dr. Frye did not answer, she paused, even going as far as to change her stance. "Mr. Branson," she corrected.

"Not unless you feel I should. He's not my student. You are."

"No...definitely not. I was just curious."

"I'll see you later, Sybil."

Sybil was slow to remove herself from the conversation. She did not respond and only walked away, heading back toward the nurse's station in search of William.

On the way, she was stopped again. "Syb!"

In rejection of the nickname, she continued walking in the opposite direction of the voice, even going as far as to quicken her pace. When Tom saw this, he used his foot to kick off the wall he had been leaning against and began to follow her down the hall. "Sybil!" he tried once more.

Soon he was close, so close he could have reached out to grab at her wrist, stilling her body completely. He didn't need to. Without warning she turned on her heel, spinning to face him, their faces uncomfortably close. Tom took a step back.

"You smoke now?" she asked. Her voice demanded a prompt answer.

"Yeah, unfortunately I do."

She crossed her arms over her chest. She also rested all of her weight on one leg causing her hips to cock in a single direction. "You can change that, you know. You went several years without it."

Tom once again fixed the way his work bag hung off his shoulder. "Yeah, well I went several years without a lot of things…" He didn't dare look at her when he said this. Even as the words hit the air he was somewhat ashamed of them. That was too much. She didn't deserve that and he deserved every bit of disregard she was showing him.

What Tom didn't know was that Sybil's silence came out of sadness, not indifference. She was afraid if she challenged his remark she'd begin to cry. Seeing her change in demeanor, he tried a different approach. "I guess I'm going to be seeing you and I don't want this to be awkward and—"

"It won't be," she stated confidently. "Dr. Frye is the only one who can do this surgery and I worked my ass off for a chance to work under him. Neither of us is going anywhere."

"Then maybe we could—"

"Nope. Can't." she gave, all too quickly.

Tom smirked. "Alright then."

"I have a boyfriend, you know."

Tom raised his eyebrows. He didn't believe her but he had no problem allowing her to play this game. Nearly a decade ago it was this same banter that had him falling in love. "Well I didn't know that. Obviously. What's his name?"

"Walter," Sybil returned, her voice hurried.

"Grand."

"He's great."

Tom shoved a hand into the front pocket of his jeans. Every lost ounce of Sybil's composure was donated immediately to him. "Well, sure, but if he's not allowing you to catch up with an old friend..."

"I can do what I want. And I'd hardly say we're old friends..."

Tom smiles - genuinely and without apology. "Then what would you call us?"

"Does it matter?"

Tom nodded. Like his exaggerated breathing, he felt as if he had no other choice. "So you just don't want to?"

Sybil nods too. With the speed she had previously carried in her words, she began to walk away. "That's how it seems, hmm?"

* * *

Thanks for reading!

x. Elle


	3. Sisters or Sounding Boards?

**A/N** : Thanks to everyone who read the last chapter and especially to those of you who reviewed! Life's been a bit hectic lately so excuse the late update. Enjoy!

* * *

After the Gala, after his breakup with Sybil, Tom fell into a bit of his own depression. It was unwarranted and because of that, he received little sympathy. His empty bed had him somehow missing his dissertation - those days when he wrote pages upon pages just so Sybil would agree to visit him. Just as she had, he loved his loft, but it was this fact that had him going back to Ireland - if only for awhile.

He spent three full years there, believing he was no better than the university his parents taught at. With his recommendations it was easy for him to obtain a job and the lack of city life (and loss of love) gave Tom plenty of time to invest himself wholly in his classes. His students were altogether nice. They were quiet and lacked attitude. Like he once did, they attended class, studied for their exams, and passed. There was no challenge for him and he accepted this, thus giving his pupils the very same fate.

While he was there Patrick returned. It was a secret at first, but one that Tom was let in on fairly early on. Really, it was he who discovered the two, and he who screamed loudly at his sister after returning home early from a weekend at Old Head to find the pair in bed together. It was all too real, an unfortunate event repeated almost two decades later, sobering even without a drop of alcohol in his veins. Without Sybil Tom was less than forgiving. He didn't have her there to calm him down and she wasn't there later when Patrick hit Emilee and Tom was completely unfeeling.

It went on, with Emilee once disappearing for a full weekend. Rory was none the wiser while Tom spent his time at his parent's home, acting as if the girl's mother's absence was a planned one. Tom worried about his sister, but he was also slightly resentful. It didn't occur to him until she came home with yet another swollen lip just how unstable he'd become. He was not his whole self anymore and it was because of decisions he had made. He pushed Sybil away and was hating Emilee because she couldn't do the same thing with Pat. When she finally did, Tom was all but lost, living in London with a flat far too spacious for his simple life. Again he went back to Ireland, first sitting at his sister's bedside waiting for her to regain consciousness and then attending a court hearing only a month later. It was reliving everything she experienced as a teenager only Rory was fourteen now, close to the age her mother was when she was conceived. She understood more and what she didn't understand, Emilee had to explain to her. But how do you explain to a child that the wonderful person she is can be traced back to her mother's worst night? Emilee was given full custody of Rory and Patrick was once again sentenced to jail. That was three years ago and it was likely he was out by now though where, they did not know.

It made sense for Emilee to move her life to London. It was a change she craved, mostly because she couldn't stand the looks everyone gave her when she was merely trying to purchase her weekly groceries. They felt bad for all she had endured but their gentle smiles were out of pity, not support. She wanted a place where no one knew her name and more importantly, she missed her brother's company and had enough clarity to acknowledge that after all Tom had done for her, maybe he needed her too.

Tom ignored the latter fact but accepted Emilee's presence nonetheless. Rory kept his mind off things: his reiterated inability to protect his sister but mostly the ache he felt in his heart for space Sybil once occupied. Even in his new flat she was everywhere and it was embarrassing to know that Tom still had photos of the couple on his phone, and had no plans of deleting them anytime soon. Rory, always observing, understood but did not dare speak of the topic. She knew how sad it made her uncle and just as he'd done to her and her mother, the teen worked to prevent that. The two spent many afternoons in their small backyard kicking a football back and forth. Rory now played with Tom and a few of his coworkers after school. He was overprotective but Rory didn't mind. Tom was the father she never knew she needed and Emilee was thrilled at the fact because she certainly wasn't ready to date yet. Even so, she was saddened to find this was also the case for Tom.

That was several years ago and the two had found a rhythm in their spacious London loft, all without romantic love. That routine carried on for days, all occupants of the Chelsea flat content, but quietly so. That's why when Tom returned home from the hospital smiling on what was meant to be a somewhat somber day, both Emilee and Rory took notice. Tom, however, did not.

He dropped his keys in the bowl by the front door and then continued to the kitchen, quickly grabbing a beer from the fridge. He did not speak or even nod toward his family, and instead seemed to be moving to a tune only he could hear. Emilee, who stirred a bowl of homemade cake mix on her hip, turned to her daughter with a questioning face. Rory shrugged, sharing with her mother an amused grin.

Finally, Tom paused. "What?" he asked, genuinely unaware of the air he had invited in with him.

Emilee stopped what she was doing. "You okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" It was almost as if he had run and was now out of breath. His words lacked gusto, as if he was caught in a lie he wasn't even aware he was telling.

"Are you on drugs?" Rory asked.

"Yeah, why are you being so weird?" Emilee looked to her daughter. "He's totally being weird, right?"

"Mhm..." she agreed. Rory did so staring down at the bowl of Coco Pops she'd poured for herself after school. This was part of their routine, a part that Tom was now upsetting.

Emilee looked her brother up and down. "Did you just have sex?"

This wasn't an improbable question; it was the hour, not the topic, that had Tom so offended. "Christ no, Em! A little modesty in front of the kid, would you?"

Rory finally looked up. She shifted so the spoon with which she pushed around milk in her glass bowl clattered as she lost its grip. "Who you calling kid, kid? You're the one walking in here like you've got a secret."

Tom was back again, his breathing normal. "Yeah well me and my secrets pay for this flat so..."

Rory took this as a dismissal. Like her mother she had a tall, thin frame, and she jumped down off the barstool, signaling her exit from the room. She dropped her bowl in the sink and quickly disappeared. She was good at this. It was the only trait she'd accepted from her father.

Still in the kitchen, Emilee leaned in toward her brother. "Did they tell you you were dying? You're going to scare her..."

Tom grew tired too and his voice followed suit. His shoulders dropped to show his disappointment. "No, I'm not dying." He paused. "At least not yet."

"Stop it, alright?" She whispered harshly, separating from her brother. "I don't want her to hear you and I don't even want to think of that."

"I saw Sybil today."

His admission was so calm, especially after such a drastic change of topic, Emilee needed to hear it again. "Sybil?"

"The—"

"No, Tom," Emilee dismissed, doing so with a shake of the hand as if to dust the explanation out of the way. "I know who she is, I just..."

"It was weird, Em. Fuckin' weird."

She put her mixing bowl on the counter and bunched her apron to wipe her hands off. "Good weird or bad weird?"

Tom looked to her to gauge her concern. "I don't know."

She slumped into herself. "You don't know or you don't want to tell me?"

"I don't know...if I want to tell you."

"Listen, Tom..."

It was his turn to cut her off. "Can we not get into this please?" His volume had returned and Emilee took immediate notice.

"Well do you think you'll see her again? Or was this a one time thing?"

Tom took a swig of his beer. With his free hand in the pocket of his jeans, he stared straight ahead as if delivering the truth without making eye contact would make it all less real. "Definitely not a one time thing. She's working on this whole thing."

"What?"

"Oh yeah. She's one of three. The other guy is someone who used to be in love with her or something," he said, brushing Sybil's relationship with Ben off for both her and his benefit.

Emilee leaned against the counter too. Only next to one another did the pair look like siblings, even with Emilee's now ombre hair and Tom's wide shoulders. "Fuck."

"Yeah."

"Well..."

Tom moved. "Don't Em. I don't want to hear it."

"How do you know what I'm going to say? You don't!"

"Yeah well you said some shitty things in the past and I don't even want to give you a chance to repeat yourself." Just as his adolescent niece had done, Tom drank the last of his beer and dropped the bottle in the sink. He looked back to his sister, his eyes demanding silence.

Unlike Pat, this was something he was afforded, especially because he did in fact open his home to her. "Oh...okay."

"Yeah," Tom sighed. "Okay."

~!~

"Hey! Uhhh...I think you're off now. Or you're meant to be off now. I'm sure you're headed downtown for lunch but I really need to talk to you. I'm kind of freaking out right now and…" Sybil sighed out. "I'm not pregnant...I'm sure you're thinking that. That would require…" She closed her eyes to banish the thought but persisted anyway. "You know what? Nevermind! Just call me when you get this, okay? Thanks! Love you! Bye!"

Mary clicked her phone off and put the device back in her bag. It was her designated lunchtime, an hour she was afforded away from her desk where she worked as an executive to Cambridge's Alumni Foundation. Sybil's flat was much closer to her office, but Mary was inexplicably in love and every day her wedding drew near, the more she felt she needed to be with her fiance. She acknowledged that this would not be allowed today, but she sighed all the same, waiting to hail a taxicab. Sybil was her sister and family would always come first but soon she wouldn't be able to keep those promises and she hoped Sybil would someday understand that, hopefully someday soon.

"Who did you kill and where's the body?" Mary asked upon entry. She shrugged out of her trenchcoat and put it on the back of a nearby chair.

The flat Sybil shared with William and Gwen is quaint at best. The furniture is mismatched and some of the appliances and fixtures are old but they keep it clean and smelling nice with candles constantly burning to make the space warm in more than just temperature. It's not the home Mary and Sybil grew up in or the uptown brownstone she shared with her boyfriend but it worked for two cardiology residents and a struggling artist.

Sybil emerged from her room, still wearing her scrubs but hiding behind a slouchy grey cardigan she sometimes wore when the hospital wings grew cold. In her arms she carried her cat, the orange tabby snuggling softly into her to hide his natural, unpleasant disposition. He ignored Mary's presence and continued to purr in Sybil's arms while she rubbed at his chin.

Seeing this, Mary took a seat. "You have murdered someone, haven't you?"

"What?" Sybil asked, slinking into the kitchen chair across from her sister.

"They give cats to mental patients to calm them down, you know."

"Whatever...cuppa?" Sybil went to stand but soon found herself rooted to the spot.

"Not until after I've been given my explanation. Why the hell am I here instead of downtown?"

"Because you love me," Sybil explained. "And because I saw Tom today and I feel like I can't breathe and nothing feels real and I just...I don't know."

"You saw him?" Mary asked, sitting forward. "Where? The tube?"

"No, at the hospital." Mary paused so Sybil sighed and continued but only after a perfectly played eyeroll. "I know you're too prideful to ask if he's okay but I'll tell you that he's not and I'm worried and I don't want to be worried, I mean, regardless of what happened I never want to see anyone in pain but—"

"You're a different kind of scared," Mary explained for her in confirmation. Sybil had invited her here, practically begged her for help and now she was spending her time trying to coax the truth from her. "Are you going to see him again? I mean—"

"Everyday, Mar. He's on my case...this project I've been waiting months for is him. And I haven't seen him, what? In seven years? Eight years? And he still makes me nervous? When is that over? When does that end?"

"Well do you still have feelings for him? I mean—" Mary knew the answer to that but it was a truth even she had trouble acknowledging, despite it not being her own.

"No," Sybil quickly dismissed.

"Then…" But Mary's proposals were too fruitful. She didn't want Sybil to resolve any of this, because to do so would be to invite Tom back into her life. "I don't know, Sybil. I'm sorry…"

"No, it's fine. I have to be back for my late shift soon. I just needed to vent."

It was Mary's turn to roll her eyes. She did so as she pushed up off the table, her hands immediately going to her stomach to keep composure. "It wasn't much of an unload. Honestly this could have been resolved via text."

"Probably. And now that I'm going over it I guess it is silly. I'm sorry I called you here I was just...shocked. It'll be fine. I'm already halfway over it," Sybil joked.

Mary did not laugh.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Reviews keep me writing and posting so get to it!

x. Elle


	4. Past Lives

In a past life, the period of time when she was someone else, someone happy and in love, her life was marked by Tom. Looking back on it now, wearing different eyes that could barely recognize the teenager she used to be, Sybil acknowledged that it was a thought that was both thrilling and terrifying. She was happy then and she believed, up until this very day, that she had found that again after him. But just as she once had, she now spent all of her moments after her shared one with Tom in the examination room that morning consumed by the simple thought of him. She did so not waiting for a text message or dreaming up the way she'd get away with seeing him next. Instead she was elbow-deep in her sudsy kitchen sink, cleaning a plate that didn't seem to need much attention to begin with. With each circular scrubbing motion she was further lost in him, not realizing that she had completely spaced out, spending more than a few minutes on this single dirty dish.

With her eyes out the window, she remembered him, all of the things they did. She didn't really know how she'd gone so long ignoring it all; her time must have been spent concentrating on other things — concentrating on forgetting if only to distract herself from what her heart truly wanted. It was all exhausting: her wanting him and then quickly deciding that wasn't an option. Still she remembered their days and how he was the first person (and arguably the only) who could make her appreciate the mundane components of life. Things like washing a dish were noteworthy, especially when Tom used to bump her with his hip and the mere sight of him had Sybil dropping her head back to laugh. She was disgusted at herself for having such vivid recall but she'd given up on calling herself pathetic. No, this was something else entirely and she wasn't quite sure how to even describe it to an outsider. As usual, it was likely something only Tom would be able to understand.

Sybil was brought back to the moment when the door behind her swung open. If she wasn't so out of it she would have heard the way William's keys previously jingled their way into the lock, even paying attention to the diminishing volume of voices as he and Gwen entered, the noise replaced by shuffling. William started immediately for his room, leaving Gwen to drop her bag and kick off her shoes in his wake. Sybil's eyes followed Will, but only for a moment. In his absence she lifted the lever of the faucet, causing a warm stream to cascade over the plate. She shook the porcelain and placed it carefully in a nearby dishrack. She'd gotten home nearly an hour ago and somehow it was the only sign of accomplishment in her flat.

"Sybil?"

The brunette looked up, as if surprised to be called upon. "What's up?" she attempted casually.

Gwen smirked. On the other side of the flat, William had pushed his door shut, the wood nearly shaking as it settled into its jamb. "We missed you at Psycle tonight."

"Oh...I just...it was a long day."

The redhead leaned back against the counter, her arms now crossed over her chest. "A long day? All of your days are long, Sybil," Gwen reasoned. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean ' _what's going on?_ '"

Gwen sighed out. "William said you were weird today—"

"That's all he said?" Sybil asked, nearly breathless.

Gwen nodded. Her eyes turned to slits, doing their best to figure her best friend out. "What else was he supposed to say?" she questioned skeptically. When she received no answer, she continued. "And then you didn't come to Spin so I just figured something was up."

"I'm...I'm fine," Sybil swore. "Is Will okay?"

"I don't...no," she settled. "He's honestly a bit miffed because you darted out after work and he had no idea what it is you're even upset about."

"I'm not upset…"

"Well then—"

"I saw Tom today," Sybil blurted out.

Gwen's eyes widened. She leaned forward as if to hear her friend better. "Like...Tom, Tom?"

"The very one."

"Oh...oh god, Sybil, I'm..."

"Please don't feel bad for me, Gwen." She paused, doing her best now to redirect this conversation in a more favorable direction. She honestly hadn't planned on discussing this with Gwen and she revealed the truth only because she expected a response that would contrast Mary's. Here though the two women, typically dissimilar, stood on the same firm ground. "There's nothing really to feel bad about anyway," Sybil tried much more casually.

"I don't feel bad, Sybil, I just…" Gwen sighed again before continuing. "For you to still be affected by it has to mean something."

Sybil shrugged, once again giving Gwen little effort. "I guess...I don't know." But once again her demeanor changed. "No," she dismissed. It came again: "No, definitely not. I mean, I'd hardly say I'm affected. I'm tired and it was just a shock, s'all."

"Are you going to tell him then?"

When Sybil's eyes caught Gwen's glare, she did her best to answer that question without words. "Him?" She countered sharply.

"William. I mean, he's a bit hacked off but he's worried too…"

Sybil shook her hands in the sink before drying them on a nearby dishtowel. Soon she was standing as a mirror to Gwen, her arms crossed over her chest causing her to hunch under the weight of her own discomfort. "Do I have to?"

"It's up to you. I mean, are you even going to see him again?"

Somehow Sybil's shoulders managed to slump more. "Did he really not tell you any of this?" Gwen rolled her lips and shook her head — a clear and somewhat indignant ' _No'_. "Tom's our patient."

"Your patient?"

"That surgery Dr. Frye has been working on...the one I haven't shut up about since this summer...the surgery is for Tom."

"Wh...what?"

"Dr. Frye's been working on it since Will and I were at Harvard but—"

"Is Tom okay?"

Sybil paused. "No," she admitted. "Well...I don't know. I haven't really seen his file yet. I kind of ran out of there. I've been waiting for this day for months now and it's here and it happened much differently than I thought it would. Again it was just...it was a surprise. And now Dr. Frye knows something's up because he asked me if I could still work on the study—"

"Well can you?"

"I don't see why not."

"Is Tom single?"

Sybil's gaze thinned. "I don't know. Why does that matter?"

"Well does he have a ring on?"

"No," Sybil revealed, almost regrettably. She wondered quickly if that was an answer she was even meant to have. Would she have noticed if she truly didn't care? "And he asked me out…" She felt seventeen again, pretending to hesitantly share information, all the while relinquishing in the time she was given to discuss the very thing she was meant to be dreading.

"Already?"

"He's always been a bit cocky," Sybil reminded. At the same time, it sounded as if it was a trait she was accepting. There was not a single ounce of criticism in her admission.

"No, he actually hasn't. You just make him nervous. He's overcompensating." Then: "Does he make you nervous? Does _this_ make you nervous?"

"What? No," she stated immediately. "That's...no," she finished with a breathy laugh.

There was a stand-off present when Will emerged from his room. He paused to take the friends in, both looking to him as if they had no idea they were at odds. The rug they stood on acted as a stage for the battle both women seemed to be entering into while their hands remained on their hips in quiet preparation.

Seeing this, William felt incredibly misinformed. He had spent his last year in London getting to know Gwen and he now considered her one of his best friends as well. Before then, Sybil was their commonality, and to exist in a place where Gwen knew things he did not was to highlight just how otherwise alone William was being so far from home. He and Sybil had faced the world back in Boston and they were doing it again now in London, just steps away from beginning their careers. She was his best friend and for the first time since their meeting, William felt incredibly disconnected from her.

"Well this isn't awkward at all!" He breathed out dramatically. He paced for the refrigerator, not yet feeling confident enough to have this conversation without something to occupy his hands. With the door open, he looked back to the pair. "So can we talk about it now or should I go back to pretending like it's none of my business?"

Sybil sighed out and took a step in his direction. It seemed a truce was being called between her and Gwen. Gwen assumed it was because Sybil now needed the redhead on her side, though for what she was unsure. Honestly, she couldn't remember a time Sybil had been so defensive. Surely it was years ago; maybe in Sybil's past life, her life with Tom.

"Will, please don't do that. It's complicated."

"Sybil, you're my best friend. I don't let people in but I let you in and you did the same for me...that's our thing! I just feel like Tom's someone important and for me to not know who he is feels insane."

"I don't know what to say, Will. I just really don't want to discuss this right now. Maybe tomorrow…"

"Is this something I'm going to have to let go of? Is this _that_ thing?"

Sybil glanced to Gwen momentarily as if to ask for clarification. "I don't follow..."

"Whatever this is...whatever your relationship with Tom is—"

"Was," Sybil corrected.

"Well...was...fuck it, Sybil.! I'll drop it, okay? But it's going to be really hard to do that if you keep shutting down every time you see him."

"You think I shut down today? It was one day! Has no one in the world ever been shocked to see someone after so many years?"

"Not like that! I swear it was the most awkward thing in my life. I watched the red hand on the clock make a full minute. I haven't done that since high school..."

"I just don't know if there's much to talk about."

"Sybil," Gwen deadpanned, as if to call her best friend out.

"What?" Sybil bellowed, now turning back to her best friend. Her arms remained away from her body now, stretched out to the sides as if searching for sympathy. "It's over with! It's done!"

"Is it? Nothing about today indicated that. Whatever this is...whatever _he_ is, you're not over it. And that's okay—"

"Will, Christ! Please! Can we just do this in the morning?"

"No because we're going to see Tom in the morning! I want to talk about this now! I've never even heard of this guy and apparently he's someone important."

"He _was_ someone important. I'm..." She released a heavy exhale. "I'm sorry, Will. It's nothing personal. You came along and I'd made it a full three years without mentioning him. I just didn't talk about it and everyone knew not to ask and finally I had someone in my life who didn't need to. You didn't know Tom and I liked it that way."

"Why?"

"Please, Will..." she pleaded.

"Sybil, really?"

"Will, I just...I need you to trust me on this one when I say that I don't want to talk about this and I'd really ask that we not do this now and when I'm ready to talk about it, I will, okay?"

"Sybil, we're going to be seeing him everyday. This isn't something that'll be easy to ignore."

"I get that. I'm trying. I just...I need you to understand that today was a day I never wanted to happen. I never thought it would and it has on a day I have really been looking forward to and now I feel like crawling in bed and dying so excuse me while I go hide out in my room until this all blows over."

Will made a hard step toward her as if to ask that she not leave. His body language told her he'd stop pushing for the truth if she remained in the room. He honestly hadn't thought she'd actually walk away, and was ignorant to the fact that she once believed the same thing of Tom and it was this misconception that had her so upset in the first place.

With Sybil gone, William rolled his neck to catch Gwen's glance. She stood where Sybil had, already moving on to washing the dishes she knew would be abandoned the moment this argument started. All she could give him was a small laugh before returning her attention to the sink. "I want to, babe, but I can't..."

"Did I ask?" he sassed.

"No, but you want to," she chuckled once more.

"Was he abusive? I mean, what did he do to her?"

"God no." Gwen breathed out. It was a ridiculous question but only if you knew Tom and had the pleasure of seeing just how wonderful he once was to Sybil. "But he changed her. That's all I can say."

~!~

Mary's arrival to her own home that evening worked to directly contrast Sybil's. First, it was _her_ home, a beautiful brownstone that she and her fiance Matthew were only a few years away from owning. They paid for the mortgage and all of the lovely touches on the inside with the upstanding jobs they held: him as an attorney and her as the director of Cambridge's Alumni Foundation.

Entering the foyer she shrugged out of her trenchcoat. As she placed the garment in the nearby closet and dropped her bag at the bottom of the nearby stairs, she called out for him. "Matthew?"

She knew where he was but still did not tire of hearing the relief in his voice when it was confirmed that she was home as well. "In here, love," he called out, leaning back in his leather desk chair so his voice traveled more smoothly out the door of his home office.

Mary followed the sound, her heels clicking on the hardwood below. This was the same pathway she walked in Sybil's apartment earlier only this was Mayfair and all of these items that surround her were carefully picked to complete her and Matthew's home together. After admitting their love to one another it seemed her and Matthew's lives were a shared project and even they sometimes acknowledged that it peaked to disgustingly saccharine levels.

Matthew was sitting at his desk with his glasses on. His sleeves were pulled up and he reminded her of the same boy she fell in love with back at Cambridge. Upon seeing him, Mary occupied the space behind his chair and dropped her hands down onto his chest. She played with his hair too, wondering if the children they'd someday have would be given her coloring or his.

Matthew continued to lean back; her presence was the only thing to coax him out of his work. He looked up at her and shared with her the smile she had donated to. "Hey you," he practically whispered.

It didn't take long for the two to connect, first at the lips then with Matthew's hands reaching out for her as he spun his chair around. She was nearly in his lap before she stopped herself, just taking the time to grin back at him.

Matthew paused. "What's wrong?"

Mary continued to grin, now because she was amused. "What do you mean?" She stood before him, moving now so she was leaning against a nearby bookshelf.

Matthew pushed away from his desk and leaned back once more, this time with his hands crossed over his chest. He was taking Mary in, partially for his own benefit and admittedly so. "Something's wrong," he assessed.

"Nothing's wrong!" Mary gave with a distinctive breathy laugh that only told him otherwise.

"Ooooh," he said, now standing up and walking to her. "Can I guess? I love this game…" He did, but what he loved more were the kisses he painted her skin with as he pressed himself into her, leaving his hands strong on her hips. Mary could be stiff but with him she was vulnerable, all of her relaxing and at his mercy.

Even so, she did her best to remain neutral. "There's nothing to guess…"

Matthew picked his head up and looked to her. "Is it work?" Immediately he moved to pepper her collarbone with more soft kisses.

Mary rolled her eyes heavenward. "No," she giggled.

"Yeah, it's too early for Gala season. Hmmm…are your parents okay?" He tried again. This time his head remained buried in the curve of her neck.

"Yes, darling, everyone's fine." Mary bit her lip and only released when his next question came, bringing the moment back into such sharp focus.

"What about our big guy?" Matthew asked. He stopped his ministrations and his hands dropped from her hips to press softly into the barely-there swell of her stomach.

Mary couldn't help but to beam, now giving him everything she was trying to hold back just moments before. "He's fine. We're all fine."

Matthew stood back and both sighed at the loss of contact, her out of longing and him our frustration. "Do you really think I don't know you well enough to know there is clearly something on your mind?"

"I know you know me well enough, I'm just hoping you'll let it go."

Matthew sighed again and turned for the door — a telltale sign that he was ready for dinner, and ready to drop the conversation. "Alright, fine—"

"Sybil saw Tom today," Mary gave in haste. Somehow it was a fact no one wanted to reveal, but one that refused to sit stagnant on the tongues of those who harbored it.

Matthew took a step toward her. "Wait, what?"

"At the hospital," Mary explained.

"Oh, wow…"

"Yeah, wow," Mary laughed flippantly.

"Well is she okay?"

"She says she is, but I don't know."

"Is he okay then?"

"Yeah...I mean, I guess. He's getting some type of heart surgery."

"Heart surgery?"

"Yeah. Dr. Frye, Sybil's advisor, is—"

"Wait...Sybil's going to perform heart surgery on Tom?"

Mary scoffed at the thought. "Yeah, ironic, huh?"

"Let's hope she's got a steady hand. I can't promise I would…"

"Yes, you would. I, on the other hand…"

Matthew laughed but only because he knew such a statement lacked weight. "She's too kind."

"Sybil's always been too kind. She's acting like she doesn't care while I'm still seething over how much of a little shit he is."

"Well it seems neither of you are over it then."

"Neither of us?" Mary sounded offended but for what reason, Matthew was unsure.

"Do you truly think Sybil is over it?"

"I want to," she admitted. "But Gwen and I were worried this would happen..."

This conversation was full of surprises and Matthew wasn't sure his eyes could get any wider. "You and Gwen are talking?"

"We have the same dog in this fight, Matthew. I've never been close with the girl but if there's one thing we can bond on, it's this."

"Is Tom the dog?" Matthew asked sarcastically.

"Sybil's happiness is the dog." Mary gave, her voice reprimanding his immaturity. "She's worked so hard to be where she is. At the hospital and emotionally. I can't have him ruining it."

"He's teaching at LSE now, you know," Matthew tried quite calmly. "He's published all over…"

"How do you know that?"

"I've seen him in the papers. He writes these editorials. He's been in The Guardian and the New York Times. I think he's doing well…"

"You think?" Mary straightened her posture, shifting against the bookshelf she was once again resting on with him so far away. "Maybe I should be asking you if you're okay. What? Do you two grab a pint every now and then?"

Matthew paused, breathing out a laugh in dismissal. "No, stop it. I'm just saying he's in a good place. It's been a long time. Sybil's focused too so who cares that they saw one another?"

"I do," Mary gave, softening once more. "I care because Sybil doesn't and that worries me more than anything."

Matthew reached out for Mary, gently cupping her chin with his thumb and forefinger. Her eyes immediately went to him, giving him the motivation to challenge her. "Love, do you honestly think she doesn't care? I mean, really?"

"Does it matter what I think? It didn't all those years ago."

"It might not," Matthew shrugged. "But you caring is just as bad as Sybil acting like she's not affected."

"How's that?"

"You care because you're worried."

"Worried?"

"It's okay, love. I guess I am too…"

"What would I be worried about?"

"About her. About her backtracking. Forgetting all of the progress she's made and going back to him. Even entertaining those feelings..."

Mary detached, now standing without the help of the bookshelf or her fiance. "I'm not worried about her backtracking. I'm worried she never made much progress to begin with."

Matthew nodded, rolling his lips inward to signify that Mary had arrived at the exact same conclusion he'd been standing on for the past several minutes. "Whoomp, there it is."

It was gone. Mary's offense and all of the tension dissipated as she dropped her head back to laugh, doing so with such dedication she nearly snorted. Matthew laughed too — it was impossible not to. The two embraced and Mary was suddenly reminded of how happy she was and how such a thing was effortless with Matthew. Even as she shared several slow kisses with him she thought of her baby sister and how such a thing had been foreign to her for many years. It was unfortunate, but true: amongst Sybil's studying and traveling, the years she was away from her family and so devoted to her work, the girl had perfected the art of pretending and this was an act she carried on now that she was back in London. It was the same act she refused to drop until she saw Tom that morning.

Eventually, Mary was able to forget. The couple shared a romantic dinner, never tiring of simple nights like this one when no holiday needed to exist for the two to open a nice bottle of wine and even sometimes light candles. It was so unbelievably easy for her to lose herself in Matthew and she showed him this when the two made love later.

But even in the aftermath of such a perfectly sweet incident, Matthew, with eyes closed, repositioned himself against Mary. "Stop thinking about it."

"I'm sorry," Mary sighed out. "It's not personal. The—"

His eyes remained closed but a smile tugged at his lips. "I don't take it personal. I know the sex was good. It's always good," he admitted, now opening his eyes to press a kiss to the nape of Mary's neck. With his gaze turned black again, he shifted once more, still trying to get comfortable. "It's not a comment on my talents, it's a comment on your inability to let things go."

"I just worry about her…"

"I'm not talking about today, Mary. I'm talking about all of this."

"All of it?" It was likely she knew what her fiance was referring to but just needed to hear him say it. One of his other talents was his inexplicable ability to make everything feel so real.

"This isn't about today...this is about everything that happened back at Cambridge." He let out a steady exhale, causing his tone to change. "But we'll talk in the morning, yeah?"

Mary nodded, now settling back into Matthew in an attempt to commit herself to sleep. She blinked, and seconds later was lost in slumber.

In the morning they didn't discuss it. Mary didn't bring the topic up and Matthew was too selfish in wanting to see her happy that he didn't challenge that. But after their shared breakfast, when Matthew drove Mary to her office and wished her well with a languid kiss that left her breathless, Matthew even found himself drowning in those thoughts. Like Mary, he was also afraid and even silently he knew that he'd join her in pushing against this. It was as if both were apprehensive to fear what they already knew: that no matter how much force their words carry, Sybil's own feelings most likely carried much more power. In the time it took for her to show that she had forgotten Tom, she'd only tucked away each memory, soaking it in hurt until she had no choice but to miss him even more. There was pain, just as there was now, but she enjoyed it and while she too was pushing back, fighting all she was feeling, Sybil was surely on fire just knowing he was back in her life, if only for a while.

* * *

I'm really surprised no one questioned if Mary was with Matthew in the last chapter. If you did, I didn't hear about it. Hopefully this satisfied some of the M/M shippers reading this story. You guys are so sweet and very supportive and I really appreciate it. I'm doing my best to include more of these two because I adore them as well.

Thanks for reading!

x. Elle


	5. Playing Pretend

It had been four weeks since she'd first seen Tom again, meaning that for the past four weeks Sybil had done nothing but pretend. It started simple, with her ignoring the way she suddenly cared about her appearance. Before him it was as if she had no choice; there was simply no time to do anything other than apply mascara and throw her hair up in a messy bun before heading off to work. Actually, on most mornings her tresses were still wet and only if she had time to grab a tea before catching the tube did she have enough mental energy to sweep blush across her otherwise pale cheeks. Now she couldn't help but to notice the way her scrubs did all but flatter her waist. She also took note of how frizzy the curls at her nape were and how such a thing was possible when she managed to catch her reflection on mirrors she wasn't even aware of only a month ago. It wasn't that she was unsightly and she swore that she didn't care either way, but with Tom back in her life she felt as if she had something to prove. She needed him to believe she was put together so maybe she could begin believing it too.

On this morning, just like many before it, Dr. Frye left Sybil in charge of the Cardiology ward. For whatever reason it was almost vacant with patients either being recently released or so heavily medicated their breathing slowed down to a rate that only allowed sleep. She was numb to the beeping of heart monitors or the low calls that were sent over the speakers, paging doctors to different wings of the hospital.

Today she was filling prescriptions: painkillers mostly along with the occasional sleeping pill. To be quite honest this task was becoming repetitive as well, and she hated that she found herself so bored she could no longer pretend she had no interest in the words being exchanged at the nurse's station. Leaning over her cart, Sybil watched the way they all talked amongst one another. Their talk must have been inappropriate for work because she couldn't hear their words but saw the way they all passed knowing glances.

It was worth noting that Sybil had a rather difficult time making friends at the hospital. She was the only female doctor in this unit, and even amongst the nurses she was the youngest. It didn't help that she came from a well-known family and her sister's upcoming wedding was currently being covered by all the local papers both here and back home in Cambridge. It also did not matter that Sybil had worked extremely hard to get where she was and to be proud of a fact was merely to acknowledge such a thing. She did not gloat or take any of this for granted, leading her to quiet mornings like this one when she seemed to merely exist in this world without participating in it.

"You slept with him?" one of the nurses finally shrieked. "Already?"

The others shushed the her.

"No, she said she _wanted_ to sleep with him," another clarified.

"Well he's fit," a blonde agreed. "And that accent…"

They all laughed again, practically dismissing Sybil's gaze. Even if they weren't discussing Tom, Sybil couldn't argue that was immediately where her mind went. They must have been though because every one of them grew silent as he came walking down the hall. Only one woman was brave enough to say _Hello_ and he waved but looked away quickly, wearing a face that showed he had no intention of encouraging that behavior. Oddly enough, it was that sort of thing that would usually make his day — a sad but true prospect.

He wore his usual waistcoat and button-up, looking like a more proper version of the man she used to love. If it was possible, the denim jeans he wore were more perfectly tailored than they once had been, and the sleeves of his shirt tightened as he walked, all of him filling out the material better. Because of this, Sybil found herself staring at his tie. It was a distraction for her eyes, pulling her orbs away from his backside or the veins on his hands and arms.

In yet another attempt to distance herself from all of this, Sybil carried on with her task. The overheard conversation must have made her feel small because she found it exceptionally easy to hide behind the pharmacy cart most likely unaware she was even doing so. When she stood, she was nearly knocked off her feet. In her concentration, one that consisted of extensive thought that was meant to rid him from her mind, she hadn't noticed Tom approach.

"Are you hiding from me?"

Sybil straightened her posture, doing her best to rest her weight casually on one hip so as to at least exude an air of comfort. "What? No..."

Tom looked away and shook his head, also giving a slight laugh. It was the same smirk of amusement he wore when greeting the nurses only he carried with him no signs of dismissal. "Alright then...what are you doing?"

"Working," she gave flatly.

"I see that, but—"

Sybil stood back from the cart but only after she loudly pushed a plastic drawer shut. "Do you need something?"

Tom sighed. "I need a lot of things. Have you...have you thought of what I asked you the other day?"

Sybil looked around. "What did you ask me the other day?"

"If you wanted to catch up, maybe grab a pint or—"

Sybil laughed. "You know what, I actually have thought about it."

"And?"

"Well I thought the same thing. So no...the answer is no, Tom, I don't want to do any of that with you."

"It's not a date, Sybil, I just—"

"Well of course it's not a date. Dating would require us to first be friends and that's certainly not happening."

"We can't be friends?"

"It doesn't typically work like that," she countered, her words dripping with sarcasm.

"I don't know how it _typically_ works, Sybil. All I know is that we're working together and I don't want things to be weird."

"They're not weird. Trust me."

"They seem pretty weird," he observed, taking in her appearance as if the two were interdependent. "And I get why they are. I get it's my fault, and if I can fix it, I'd like to so I'm trying…"

"What are you fixing, exactly? I already told you it's not weird. Nothing's your fault, I was just surprised to see you, that's all."

"Frye asked me if I wanted you replaced..."

"He...what?" This made Sybil pause, also causing her to blink hard as if to ask that he speed up his response.

"I said no."

"For me or for you?"

"I don't...I don't know. Both."

"Did he ask how we know one another?"

"Not really."

"Good. And I think it's best that you don't tell him...you know, if it ever does come up. It's none of his business and it doesn't matter. It was so many years ago and—"

"And what?" Tom countered. Sybil could only roll her eyes, hearing so vividly the way Gwen discussed Tom's fraudulent arrogance only a few weeks ago.

Tom sighed again. "He wanted to though. I think he's—"

"He's not in love with me and I'm really sick of people saying that. Maybe I'm just good at what I do."

"Well of course you are. You're brilliant. But he's probably in love with you too."

"You're being inappropriate," she said, her voice warning.

"Well I'm sorry for that. That's not my intention...I'm just trying to make conversation."

"There's no need. Really. We work together. You need help and I'm going to help you. I'm here doing my job and your appointment is over now so I'm sure you have places to be..."

"Not really," he revealed as he straightened his bag on his shoulder. "Office hours, I guess, but with it being the start of the semester it's pretty slow. This is time well spent, I'd say." When Sybil continued to ignore him, he crossed yet another line. "It's nice to see you, Sybil…"

In response, she gave him nothing. Really, she could barely hold eye contact, leading to several pill bottles being rearranged without purpose. Tom never knew Sybil to be this cold and yet his skin flushed at the thought of her being this close. But he was attempting to respect her, doing so at his own cost. Respecting her often meant allowing her to continue to keep her distance, standing in the very same spot he'd pushed her to all those years ago.

"Listen, do you want me here?"

Sybil looked up. "I don't know what you mean…"

"I'll go," Tom gave strongly.

He sounded willing and therefore bold, causing Sybil's breath to hitch as her glance caught his. "Go? Where would you go?"

"I'll tell Frye I can't do it. I'll give up the trial. Whatever you want."

"That's a truly stupid thing to do."

"Why? I'm clearly making you uncomfortable."

"Are you?" Sybil glared icely. "I wasn't aware."

Tom pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. He even stuffed his fingertips into the too-tight pockets of his jeans. "Clearly your studies haven't diminished your sarcasm."

Sybil side-eyed him. "Is that a compliment, or…"

"Sure it is."

Sybil rolled her lips. "Can you elaborate?"

"That first night. At that dumb party..."

"It was a dumb party," she returned all too quickly.

Tom's eyes narrowed. "Do you regret going then?"

"I don't...what are you even getting at?" Sybil stammered.

"I'm just making conversation…"

"You're not though! This isn't casual conversation, Tom! And if this is you trying to get me back into your life, you need to rethink your tactic. Or!" she bellowed, "you should have rethought your tactic...a long time ago! I didn't put us here, you did!"

"I get that, Sybil! But you're already back in my life. Or, I'm in yours. And you won't let me leave! I'm offering…"

"You're sick," she criticized, all with a shake of the head.

"I'm not sick…"

"Well you need help."

"Yeah, I need lots of help," he scoffed and Sybil couldn't help but to laugh with him.

"Can we just get brunch please?"

" _Brunch_?" She thought immediately of the cafe they used to go to every Saturday morning. "You've got to be kidding me…"

"You don't sound like yourself right now. What happened to the sweet girl I used to know?"

Her eyes widened, as if to give him time to backtrack. When he didn't, she slammed another drawer shut and moved around the cart so she was closer to him. "Some guy screwed her over. That's what happened. And don't say that! As if you had any impact on who I was."

Tom looked her up and down. "Well it seems that I have an impact now."

"Don't give yourself so much credit," she spat. "Let me get you up to speed...I'm in residency now meaning I'm at this hospital for at least twelve hours a day. I typically get about three hours of sleep every night...and that's if I'm lucky. Sometimes I sleep here because the half hour of travel time it takes to get back to my flat could just be used passing out on a cot in the breakroom. I'm usually too busy to eat and when I do, it's somewhere between an apple and a scone, and by 'a scone' I mean 'several scones'. Despite all of that, I exist quite well on my own—"

"I thought you had a boyfriend?" He asked, knowing that to do so was to be far more daring than he had been with her in many years. It was not his best option if he were trying to get her back, wherever that was, but he honestly couldn't help it. Even when they were in love, madly in love and utterly inseparable, their conversations still carried a similar tune and while Sybil disregarded the people they used to be, Tom couldn't help but to feel as if they were those same people now.

"Oh, piss off! I define my days and even though I'm stressed out of my mind, I'm actually quite happy."

"That's great! I genuinely want to hear it. So can we please just go out, Syb? I don't want to do this."

"Do what? And don't call me 'Syb'!"

"Do this runaround. So you hate me, I get it—"

"I don't hate you. I don't know you, really. I have no idea what your life has been like. So there you go again, thinking you know me…"

"Well if you don't hate me then let me take you out. It's not a date. You don't have to tell anyone and we can go wherever you want. I just want to make sure you're okay—"

"I'm fine. Trust me," she bit.

"Alright, well I mean us...as friends...you working on me..." Sybil looked to Tom, wanting to smirk but suppressing it while he struggled to convey his thought. "This surgery..."

"You done?" she deadpanned.

Tom's shoulders deflated to show his own frustration. "I know you say I don't know you, but I do. This isn't like you and I'm sorry that I make you this way—"

"You don't make me this way, Tom. You don't make me any way! Didn't we just go over this? My feet hurt and I have a bit of a headache. I don't get what you're trying to do and you're keeping me from helping other patients—"

Tom looked around. The nurse's at the station had scattered, the remaining group doing a fair job at pretending they weren't eavesdropping. "This floor is practically empty…"

"Well I'm on the clock."

"Can you not talk to patients?"

"I can. And I do. I just don't think I want to talk to you. I think I've made that pretty clear."

"If you truly believed that, you'd have walked away by now."

"Done!" She started down the hall but not because she wanted to. What Sybil truly wanted was to continue to argue with Tom but found that to win this round was to separate herself completely.

"Syb...il!" He corrected quickly in an attempt to call her back. "Wait! Please! I'm just trying to help…"

She spun around quickly, the braid she wore slapping her back in a dull thud. "Well you're not. Let's pretend we don't know one another and you're just some bloke Dr. Frye picked to test this operation on. I've done a wonderful job forgetting you so it shouldn't be too hard for me, really…"

He wanted to go after her but he knew that to get any closer was to push her further away. "This isn't you…"

"Stop saying that!"

"Then walk away!"

The moment stilled while the two worked to catch their breath. Amidst the silence, Sybil remembered all their old arguments and how up until the very end there was not a single moment when they were ever truly angry at one another. It was mostly flirting and their supposed anger often had them pinned to a wall, their lips declaring a truce while clothing was discarded and they tumbled toward the nearby bed.

"If you want to make me comfortable, let's just get through this. I'm not going to let you ruin this for me."

"I'm not going to ruin it...I don't want that for you. Those other guys are scared of you and when Frye gives an instruction, he gives it directly to you. This procedure is for you, Syb. Whether you want it or not. If you didn't know that..."

"No, I didn't know that," she stated, almost in a whisper.

"So I'll keep my mouth shut. You may hate me but I'm really, really glad you're here. I don't know how I feel about a bunch of strangers cutting me open like that."

Sybil crossed her arms over her chest. "It's microscopic, first of all. Secondly...what would you have done if I wasn't here? I mean, you didn't know I'd be here...did you?"

"Feck no!"

"Alright, then that's what you were expecting."

"Well they say if I don't do this, I could die. Maybe not tomorrow or even this year, but eventually. Maybe when I'm fifty or—"

"Stop it."

She was scolding but Tom couldn't help but to reason with her. "You'd get your wish."

"I don't want you dead," she droned, rolling her eyes. "I'm your doctor. It's my job to fix you. That's what I'm going to do...we're going to do...and then we'll go back to forgetting the other one exists."

"You'll go back to forgetting I exist," he corrected.

"Probably," she shrugged.

"God, tell me how to do it. Tell me how to act like you don't care."

Sybil paused, even giving him a small smirk. "Alright, well, first you start by not caring..."

"This is not going anywhere," Tom admitted with a heavy exhale. "At least I tried."

"But that's the thing, Tom! There's no need to try. What happened between us was so long ago, I…" He waited for an elaboration and was somewhat hopeful when it did not come. Instead, the mood grew serious. "Nothing to fix except your heart, right?"

Tom walked away, his ears savoring such honesty. Sybil watched him go, feeling daft and then spending every minute thereafter hating herself for sharing with him something to poignant and painful. It was crucial for her to show him she was not affected by him and yet, up until now, it felt so second nature Sybil didn't realize that maybe she had been pretending all along - every single day for the past eight years.

~!~

"Who is he?"

Sybil looked to Ben. The two had been standing beside one another for several minutes as they waited for Dr. Frye to emerge from his office and for Tom and William to arrive for their morning meeting. Both rested with their hands on the rails behind them, their bodies hunched over like children hanging off a swing set.

"Who?"

"Tom." Ben was kicking at the floor as if he were hoping it would move. Sybil figured that maybe he actually was; she thought Ben was constantly looking to escape situations and she figured he'd welcome the floor below breaking if it caused him to fall through.

"Oh…" Sybil gave, now mimicking him as she kicked at a scuff with the sole of her rubber trainers. "No one."

"He doesn't seem like no one," Ben commented bluntly, his voice carrying with it a bit of mirth.

"Well he is now," Sybil assured. "And he made that choice."

"Being?"

His inability to take a hint must have been honed through the years. Sybil even laughed. "Do you care?"

"I do, actually. If he's a wanker, it'll take some pressure off of me for this surgery."

Sybil dropped her head back to laugh. "Thank you for offering to kill my ex, but I will pass."

Ben shifted. "So he was a boyfriend?"

Sybil looked straight ahead and gave a slow nod. "Something like that."

"Friends with benefits?"

She shrugged. "I don't know how to explain it."

Ben heard what she wished she were brave enough to say: _it doesn't matter what we were because we aren't anymore._

"We don't have to talk about it. I was just curious. I used to see you all the time and then you kind of disappeared." The next line came with hesitation. "I thought it was because we had sex."

Sybil, still staring at the tiled floor, shared a small smirk. "It wasn't because we had sex. I was...well, I was with Tom, really."

"Were you with him when we were together?"

She looked to Ben, finally feeling as if she owed him a more personal side of herself. This was shock, similar to the feeling she had when she walked into the examination room and saw Tom sitting on the table. "We weren't together, Ben. I'm sorry to sink that ship, but it was one time."

"And it wasn't that great?"

"I mean...no, not really." She pursed her lips and looked away. Somehow she was thinking of Tom again, of the argument they had had before their trip to Ireland and how even in her offense she was somewhat flattered that Tom was so insistent on her deserving better. She saw that now and she felt it so intensely, only when she couldn't share these thoughts with him. Days after Sybil and Tom left for Ireland the two discovered one another in a different way, with the two rocking against one another, their lips just as hungry and loving as their fingertips. She had known things with Ben were a mistake but the degree to which that was the case was only highlighted when Tom and her made love. Even though Sybil was not with Tom anymore, she found herself feeling bad for Ben, as if the Irish man's presence was once again meant to make him feel inadequate.

"I'm sorry I was a prick."

Sybil laughed. "It's okay. It happens." She wasn't aware of what incident she was referring to: the night she shared with Ben or all the moments with Tom thereafter.

"If it was better do you think you would have given me a chance?"

Sybil was speechless and she sought out his gaze to ask for clarification. "Did you want that?"

"Obviously."

"Oh...that wasn't...that wasn't obvious to me. I'm sorry, I—"

"I didn't do a great job of showing you."

"Listen, we were young and—"

"Tom's old," Ben pointed out.

"He's old _er_ ," Sybil corrected with a giggle.

Ben was serious again. "Is that why?"

"What? Were you too young? I was the same age..."

"I don't know. We don't have to talk about it." Ben remembered sleeping with Sybil and how his teenage-boy egotism hid his true feelings. He'd been in that situation so many times before her and yet his hands shook against her naked skin as if she somehow meant more. Now he could barely look her in the eye; he was embarrassed, feeling every bit of sixteen again.

"Ben, it's fine, really. I honestly don't give it much thought. I'm not that girl anymore."

"If you don't care now...did you care then?"

Sybil released a steady exhale in preparation for the truth. "Honestly, no."

"Why not?"

"Because of Tom."

It was as if he appeared when he was called upon, usually in conversations where it was impossible for that to be true. Just as Sybil had uttered his name, her eyes closed at the sound and when they opened she was greeted by the sight of William and Tom heading down the hall.

Ben must have seen them too because he kicked off the wall and moved to stand in front of Sybil. "I thought of trying again. You know, us... I've come so close a few times since we started residency...I just wanted to see what would happen...maybe just confirm everything. But then Tom came around and I knew it was a stupid idea. You're...you're so sweet, Sybil. And you're pretty and you're smart but you would have lied to me...just like you're lying to him now."

"Ben…"

"The only difference is that I'd kill for you to lie to me the way you lie to him. I was young and I'm sorry if it was all a bit insensitive, but if he meant anything to you, he's an even bigger jerk than I was. I guess we were both a bit late in realizing how cool you are."

"Ben, look—" William and Tom were almost to them, and in seeing this, Sybil looked quickly back and forth between the men. The thought of Tom knowing Ben still had feelings for her was something she didn't want him to hear, as if such a thing would hinder progress they had yet to even make.

"It's present tense, Sybil. You're still cool. It doesn't surprise me that Tom hasn't given up."

"Oh, he—"

Ben laughed and the way he smiled was so genuine, Sybil couldn't help but to smile back. "He hasn't given up so if you have, it's probably best you be as honest with him as you just were with me."

He dramatically pulled at the door, a breeze escaping the stuffy examination room, welcoming William and Tom as they came to a stop before Sybil. Her mouth was agape as if she were still thinking of a response to Ben's comment, or was maybe hoping to give an excuse to Tom and her best friend. William must have noticed because he raised his eyebrows and brushed past her, moving for the room as well. He was full of awkward faces lately, finding his features could tell a much more tactful story than his heart could. William had given Sybil the space she needed and he had yet to bring the topic up again but it didn't keep him from constantly wondering, especially when he stood amongst Sybil and Tom and felt the way their energy was still so kinetic.

Sybil remained motionless. She shut her mouth and swallowed, hard, all while she and Tom took one another in. His own mouth had hardened, keeping his lips from saying something insensitive about what he'd just seen. Really, it was punishment for being just as insecure as he once was, hating a boy he didn't know over the mere possibility of him loving Sybil more than he could. Tom believed he hadn't even been given a chance last time and now he knew that was not the case. He was given a chance and he let the opportunity go. He walked away and was now forced to watch the world admire her in the way he always had.

Before long Sybil was left in the hallway alone. Tom had offered to hold the door for her but she was too lost in Ben's words, waiting for them to flee before she greeted the examination room. It was only when Dr. Frye appeared, doing the very same thing and holding the door for Sybil, that she followed.

Inside the three boys stood in a near circle looking almost as if they were friends and were currently managing a casual conversation. In a way they all had a stake in this — both Tom's surgery and Sybil's happiness. Perhaps, the two had far more in common than any of them would be willing to admit.

Amongst all of them, even Tom who was just a few years younger than him, Dr. Frye felt as if he were an outsider — as if this operation was not one he contrived and the participants were not carefully selected by him personally. The five of them had an unbelievable opportunity to take this experience and bond over it but instead spent most of their time establishing issues and then deciding on which side they wished to stand. Somehow though, when it came to Tom's health, they were able to put all of that aside and focus on the matter at hand. At best, it was amusing to Dr. Frye and had him looking forward to these morning meetings in more ways than one.

In the silence, while the three residents shuffled into a line around Dr. Frye, all of them looked to Tom until he moved. He dropped his bag on a nearby chair and walked to hop up onto the examination table.

"I'm starting to feel like a test subject," he admitted.

"You are a test subject," Dr. Frye admitted flatly. "And it'll only get worse."

There was a pause but it was barely long enough for anyone to realize Dr. Frye had transitioned away from attempted humor in the direction of Tom's actual medical condition. Unlike the rest of them, Dr. Frye had few faces he wore, and all of them tended toward various levels of indifference. If he had emotions or opinions, no one knew of them.

"So I've had Sybil prepare some medications for you but I hear she was distracted by an unruly patient so I hope she didn't mess it up."

Will and Ben shared a laugh. Everyone in the hospital heard of Sybil and Tom's spat. They were actually becoming quite the story, giving these otherwise overworked medical professionals something to snicker at on their lunch breaks. Just as she was so often disregarded for other reasons, Sybil showed her clear unamusement. It is clear Dr. Frye's scolding was directed only at Tom but that still didn't keep her cheeks from flushing as she thought of the possibility of her advisor thinking less of her, especially over her inappropriate relationship with a patient. It was in this realization that Sybil saw it again, flashes of all of her intimate moments with Tom. She continued to blush but now for different reasons.

With three pill bottles in his hands, Dr. Frye took one at a time and held them before Tom as if to display the contents of a test tube. "Take one blue pill and two white pills every morning. The green pills should be taken right before bed. All pills should be taken at approximately the same time each day."

"Shit, there is no way I'm remembering this..."

"Set an alarm," Sybil suggested. Her voice told it was an obvious solution, almost as if she were criticizing Tom for being so helpless. What Tom heard was a challenge to be better.

"Alright, I guess I could do that."

"Give me your phone," she instructed. Without hesitation he did and without hesitation her fingers worked to unlock the device. Everyone else looked on in amazement, even Dr. Frye who felt he was now allowed to be an active bystander in this unlikely social circle.

Tom's screensaver was of him and Emilee. Rory had grown up to be quite beautiful and the three were on a shoreline, laughing while the sun set behind them. _Kinsale_ , she thought. Still Sybil moved, in the opposite direction of those memories, as she set two different alarms meant to go off every single day. In haste she even tapped quickly at his messages but hated herself for doing so and immediately returned to the home screen. Her eyes could only make out a short list of people being contacted, but she saw no names. She figured then that his hookup was a steady one, or rather, she hoped that was the case.

"There," she returned, still outwardly emotionless. "All set."

Tom nodded. He shared a look with the rest of the men in the room to show he was also surprised by Sybil's actions. "Okay then…"

"If the shortness of breath continues, you need to call me immediately," Dr. Frye instructed.

"Can I still run?"

"I don't see why not. Obviously you want to restrain yourself a bit. While you're at it, you could cut back on the drinking, ditch the fags...up to you."

"Aren't I supposed to continue living my life regularly?"

Dr. Frye paused. His stoic face spoke magnitudes causing William to snort out a laugh. "No studies have ever shown bad side effects of quitting alcohol and nicotine. None. Literally zero." His tone was so dry, Sybil and Ben let out a laugh as well. "We'll do an EKG on Monday and if everything looks good and seems to be progressing, we'll try the cardioversion."

"I thought these were the cardioversion," Tom said, shaking the pill bottles.

"Pharmacologically, yes. If these work I want to see if electrical cardioversion is just as successful. If they both work, we'll have more leeway during your procedure. If one does, we'll focus on that. If neither do…" His voice trailed off and he looked down to his clipboard where he made a note. "Well I honestly haven't thought that far…"

"Wow, assuring."

"It's going to be fine," Sybil let out quickly. She was no longer reprimanding him or asking that he be more mature in handling this. In a way that Dr. Frye was unable to do, and a way that William and Ben would also struggle with, Sybil's mood turned earnest. Her voice was soft and the way she demanded his attention had every one else silent, as if they felt they were out of line in interrupting this moment.

Tom nodded. "Of course," he stated stiffly. He was surprised by her warmth and couldn't quite pull his gaze from her lips long enough to think of a better response.

* * *

Thanks for reading! And big thanks to those of you who reviewed last chapter - it means a lot to me to hear what you think!

X. Elle


	6. Walk Away

Tom couldn't quite explain it but his visits to the hospital each morning had begun to remind him of his university days. London Bridge looked nothing like Cambridge and everyone dressed differently in their bright colored scrubs and white coats. In a way even this was comforting as Tom was once made to always feel like an outcast for dressing just as he did now: smartly, in fitted denim and a starched oxford. Instead of earbuds, everyone surrounding him wore stethoscopes. They walked just as quickly, not to class but to operating rooms or early morning appointments similar to the one he was getting ready to attend. In a way, the hospital was nothing like his alma mater and in a way, the two were one in the same. Sybil, he assumed, was to blame and yet he couldn't blame her and that had him looking to the past more than he ever had before.

This morning she stood at the nurse's station studying a flipped-open binder. She propped her head up on her elbow as she hunched over the counter, her fringe a wispy mess against her forehead. All of the Cardiology floor buzzed around her and with every nurse or doctor that passed in front of her, a different snapshot of her perplexity was revealed.

In seeing her, Tom couldn't help but to smile. The woman he saw before him was not in her third year of Residency but instead stood as a twenty-something, her lips painted red and her heels chunky, black, and high. He remembered her standing in front of his refrigerator once, her arm outstretched behind her while she held open the door. In front of her she reached for his last bottle of stout and when she stood up, Tom caught an even better view of her backside. He was young then, equal parts naive and immature, but when Sybil finally turned around that night something changed. She demanded more from him than anyone ever had before and something within Tom graciously accepted her presence in his life as a challenge.

Today when Sybil looked up she also looked around. It was not Tom she immediately saw but she did manage a small smile to several passing doctors. He wondered if she was looking for William or perhaps she just needed to check the time on the clock across the hall. She used to be notoriously late and now Tom found her arriving first to his appointments, a fact he took note of, and one that had him leaving his flat to take an earlier train to the hospital. Either way Sybil found Tom eventually and somehow took this as permission to bury her nose back in her book; whatever she was previously looking for was not found, but willingly forgotten.

Tom didn't even attempt a _Hello_. It was clear to the both of them that Sybil had seen him approach and he continued to be amused by her while she did her best to shield her eyes from him, each orb darting about behind her hand to observe just how close to her he stood.

"How's your day going?" he tried.

Sybil looked up, immediately pretending this glance was the first she'd shared with him. "Oh god…"

"That bad?" Tom asked, leaning in.

"It is now," Sybil confirmed dryly. She stood up and pushed the binder away like a little girl rejecting an unsavory meal. She must have felt somewhat immature too because she once again shifted her posture in an attempt to reclaim control of the conversation.

Tom could only smirk. If he weren't so charmed by Sybil he'd tell her that it was a battle she didn't need to concern herself with; every time he approached her he did so reminding himself of the line he toed — one between future and past where Sybil was somehow untouchable in both worlds.

"You know…I've never had anyone hate me this much."

"I don't hate you, I just…" She sighed out.

"Just what?" he asked, his eyes bright to show his interest.

Never one to back down, Sybil met his gaze with an equally intense one. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

"And you look nice today," he observed while his eyes drew the lines of her silhouette. "See? We all have our opinions."

Sybil rolled her eyes. She reached forward to grab for her binder and quickly shut the item so she could hold it in her arms, pressed tightly into her chest like armor meant to separate Tom from her. "Here. I'll make you a deal. You quit smoking and I will go out with you."

Tom's eyes widened and he naturally stepped into her. "Wait, really?"

"Yes, really," she emphasized. "Dr. Frye's going to insist it soon and regardless of your heart condition, you should really stop. I mean…do you really still run—"

"Every morning," he returned quickly and proudly.

Sybil wished to follow the comment with agreement but she soon decided against it. Instead, she took on the role she was given, that of Tom's doctor — a professional who had never known Tom previously. "Your heart and your lungs work together, you know. If your lungs are garbage, your heart's not going to have much of a chance to recover."

"I drink too," Tom admitted without shame. "Does that have to stop?"

"It should," Sybil nodded indignantly. "It should all stop." But she paused as if to attempt to find the girl she used to be. "Why do you drink?"

"I drank when you met me."

"Actually," she drawled, "I was drinking. And you really didn't," she reasoned. "I've never seen you drunk, actually."

"I was on my best behavior with you."

"Is that what this is then?" Sybil questioned. It was her turn to run her eyes over his form. "Am I seeing the real Tom?"

Tom shrugged. "Maybe."

"Well I don't believe that. And I'm sorry that you do."

Tom paused, taking the time to look at her with proper skepticism. "Do you really want to go to brunch with me or do you just want me to stop smoking?"

"I'd like for you to quit smoking," Sybil admitted honestly and without hesitation.

"Well we don't have to go out then." Tom moved, ready to reposition his bag on his shoulder to show he was prepared to dismiss himself.

Sybil immediately followed, her body drawn to him, not allowing any more than an arm's length between them. "Are you kidding?" she practically shrieked. Her annoyance nearly had her dropping her binder down. "You've been bothering me for over a month, I've said yes, and now you're retracting? What kind of mind game is this?"

"I only want you to go if you want to go," Tom stated plainly.

"You know what I want, Tom? I just want things to be civil between us so I can do my job and you can get the help you need. That's it. If that involves going to brunch with you then sure, I'll go."

"We can't be friends?"

"After everything? Honestly? No, we can't. We were and now we aren't. We haven't been for the past...what? Eight years?"

He was still again. With his hands stuffed back into his pockets he took a full pace toward her. It was possible he didn't want anyone else to hear him or maybe, and more likely, he wanted this to be a moment where only the two of them existed. "Well I'm...fuck, I'm just going to say it. And you'll probably hear it a thousand more times until this is through and even though you don't care, I do. So I'm sorry."

Sybil's demeanor immediately changed. Her action was not a symbolic apology for her more recent behavior but instead an acknowledgement that Tom had in fact ruined the couple they used to be and Sybil knew deep down that if he hadn't the two would likely still be together. But life didn't work like that and Sybil did more than think a friendship with Tom was unlikely; she hoped it was. She was unable to think of their first night together and all the days after when arguments similar to this one occurred, hiding the way the two were fighting deep romantic feelings. There was a bit of truth to their bickering now, but it still didn't conceal the fact that at no point did Sybil try to escape the situation.

She swallowed hard. "Me too."

Terrified, and now anxious as she thought about their possible outing, Sybil dismissed herself. Tom allowed her to go. He'd accept anything if it meant bringing her back to him.

~!~

Brew Wharf was nothing like the cafe they used to eat brunch in every Saturday morning. Really, it was unlike any of their usual meeting spots. It lacked privacy and despite the crowded tables that surrounded them the bustle of the city could easily be heard. The pair sat on the precipice separating the restaurant from the nearby street. It gave Sybil ample opportunity to distract her eyes with traffic caused by professionals doing their best to make it back to work during the lunch rush hour. Tom had no other choice but to watch her stare off. She only came back to him when their drinks were delivered and she, always sweet, smiled at the waitress and gave her a soft _Thank you_.

With the waitress gone, Sybil's sass returned. She corrected her posture and moved to swiftly switch her water with Tom's ale.

Tom's eyes darted, watching what was clearly a carefully planned trade. Maybe Sybil wasn't observing traffic but instead was avoiding his eyes, angry as she assumed he was trying to prove to her that he did in fact enjoy the occasional drink. Her reaction to him was always so effortless, even now when it was mostly negative.

"I thought I just had to quit smoking…"

"You do," Sybil stated brightly. She brought the glass to her lips and took a hearty swig. "But I'm still your doctor and this," she motioned with a nod of her pint, "is unnecessary."

"Actually," Tom revealed as he sat back with arms crossed confidently across his chest, "I do it quite often."

"What?"

"Drink on lunch."

"It's not just lunch," Sybil disregarded. "I mean in general."

"I don't have a problem…"

Sybil clicked at her phone so the electronic could reveal the time. Her mind was temporarily distracted but she was soon brought back to him. "It might not be a problem. I mean, you clearly don't think it's a problem but I'd say there's at least a minor issue in the fact that cutting back on your alcohol intake could drastically increase the productivity of your heart and you still refuse to do it."

"I'm Irish," Tom smirked.

Sybil rolled her eyes. "You're stupid is what you are…"

Tom sat forward once more, a low laugh propelling him into a more upright position. "I've taught an entire lecture being super hungover. More hungover than the students I taught."

Sybil's eyes narrowed. "Why are you telling me this? Are you proud of that fact?"

"No, not really," he reasoned. "But it's the truth."

Three weeks had passed since the two made their agreement. Up until a few days ago, Tom believed Sybil had officially detached and had since struggled to come up with the mental energy involved in emotional surrender. When she approached him to let him know that she noticed how his habit had dwindled, he was both shocked and entertained. He really hadn't made much progress in getting over his addiction, and he did little to hide this fact. Last night he was up for several hours, blinking at the ceiling thinking that perhaps the blind eye Sybil turned was one that existed out of caution. Surely she wanted the man she once loved to take her out, but she was struggling now to find him again.

"Well how are you doing with the smoking?"

"Fine. I've only had one fag today."

"How many would you have typically smoked by now?"

"Five," Tom admitted honestly. Then: "At least."

"Is running just awful?"

"For someone who believes that all the time, I think my answer's a bit subjective," he chuckled.

Sybil's face lost all expression as she quickly worked to correct him. "It's not awful. I still do it."

Tom paused. It was likely he was unaware but a grin began to tap at his cheeks, causing him to smile. "Yeah?"

"Every morning," she admitted confidently.

"More than I do then. I take the weekends off."

The moment was gone and Sybil was back to diagnosing Tom for problems that had very little to do with his heart. Or maybe his heart was the true cause of all of this — not the pumping of blood or the flow of oxygen but the way he felt about Sybil, then and now. "Do you sleep a lot?"

"Sometimes." Sybil said nothing so Tom smirked to interrupt the silence. "I'm not depressed."

She smirked too. "How did you know what I was going to say?" It was a genuine question, one that had Tom sipping at the drink Sybil ordered.

"You seem pretty depressed to me," Sybil continued with conviction.

"I can't smoke, drink, or sleep? What am I allowed to do?"

"Run. Teach. Eat well. Understand your life matters to other people," she casually added.

"Oh does it?"

"You live with Emilee now, right?"

Tom's forehead creased. "How did you know that?"

Sybil took another sip of her pint. It wasn't stout but she couldn't argue that it tasted better with Tom near. "Because she's your emergency contact and her address is your address."

"That is correct."

"And Rory's here too?"

Tom looked away. For a moment he wanted to check her too. It was warranted but Sybil was doing little to assure him of his good-standing in her life but he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of her. Blinking even presented a challenge but Tom struggled to manage much else, especially as she continued to question him. "She is," he returned. "She's enrolled in a Bourgie private school and everything."

"How old is she now?"

"Sixteen." Tom sipped at his water. Unlike Sybil, he didn't have the pleasure of tasting her in the beverage.

"Yikes…"

"Tell me about it," Tom agreed. He looked away if only to shake the thought off like a chill creeping up his spine, eventually causing him to quite literally shake the feeling off.

"Why? Do you worry some asshole's going to break her heart?"

"Yeah, I am," Tom returned genuinely. He had begun to own his mistakes and the intensity with which he stared back at her had her feeling terrified.

Tom had created a gaping hole in the conversation, one that just begged Sybil to jump in. When she didn't, he sighed out. If his heart could manage it, he was sure her kindness would have him annoyed. He needed her to be as upset with him as he was with himself.

"Well I'm sure she's fine. She's a smart girl. And Emilee's a good mum…"

Tom was idly playing with his crumpled straw wrapped but he looked up when she said this. "Do you really believe that?"

"Of course I do," Sybil gave with a small giggle — there was condescension in the sound. "Did you ever think I didn't?" In a flash Sybil remembered an argument she once had with Tom's sister and how afterward she went to him, seeking comfort that he so readily gave her.

"Well, no…I just don't know if she deserves that. She was pretty nasty to you."

"Yeah and Mary was pretty nasty to you too and yet here we are."

Tom nodded. His heart stilled, only to continue at an uncomfortable beat. "Here we are…"

"Mary has no idea I'm here," Sybil revealed.

"Yeah, neither does Emilee."

The two shared a brief laugh. Sybil must have been unsettled by it because she immediately returned the conversation to its original setting: uncomfortable and glaringly so. It was odd to her how unnerved she was lately by both lies and the truth.

"Matthew tells me you work at LSE..."

Tom looked up. "You talk about me with Matthew?"

Sybil met his glance with the same concentration. "Is your shock over me talking about you or the fact that it happens with Matthew?"

"I guess a bit of both."

"He's really great. Honestly, he's one of my best friends. He's really become an important person in my life…"

"I don't believe you," Tom scoffed.

"No, really. I'm not kidding. He's a good man, Tom. He just made some poor decisions once upon a time. Mary forgave him and I have too."

"You didn't have much choice…"

"Yes, I did," she corrected. "And he's so good to Mary, it's hard not to adore him."

"Well I'm glad to know you have the capacity…" he deadpanned.

"To forgive? Of course I do." Then she added: "For some things."

"You're here because you want things to be civil…" he corrected. If the two were going to discuss their past, Tom found no use in dancing around that truth here in the present.

"You don't know why I'm here," Sybil argued.

"You told me that was why you were here..."

"Do you want to get into this?" Sybil nearly yelled. "I've let you take me out—"

"It's not a date."

"No but my time is precious and I'm spending my day off with you."

"I don't want to get into it then." Tom shrugged.

"Then?"

"I don't want you to remember why you hate me."

"I don't hate you, Tom! Christ!" She was yelling now and yet Tom couldn't help but continue to provoke her. He deserved this. He needed her feeling empty at his own expense.

"I do. I hate me. I regret it and I think about it a lot and—"

"You sound mental," she spat in dismissal.

"I am fucking mental."

"Those pills are getting to your head."

"Fuck those pills," he shot out.

Sybil's glare was a warning. "You need to take them."

"Stop changing the subject."

"This is very much the subject, Tom. Or at least it should be. You're getting a procedure done and I'm your doctor and—"

"Do you really believe that?"

"Yes, I do! And if you keep trying to stir up these doubts then—"

"If I'm stirring them up it means they're already there."

"You're an arse, you know that?" She grabbed for her purse before shuffling out of the booth and toward the door. Halfway there, she turned back around. "I said to give it up and you keep pushing and pushing."

Tom stood too and quickly began to walk after her. Only a few people looked to the pair, though they easily returned to their meals as the two made it out onto the street. "I didn't want to come if you were going to be like this—" he called after her.

Sybil stopped, all before turning tightly on her heel to stare back at him. "Like what? Hurt? Yes, Tom! I'm hurt. I'm still very hurt!"

"Sybil, I said I was sorry! And I'm working right now to prove that to you. I'm just trying to help this not to be so awkward."

"There's nothing to prove, Tom," she bellowed. "I believe you are sorry and I accept your apology. That was a million years ago and I'm over it. I don't want to discuss it and we're going to forget we ever did, okay? This is something in the past—"

"Not my past!"

"Well it's in mine!"

"You're lying! Stop trying to act like it's so easy to forget, Sybil!"

"I can't! It is! I worked really hard to get where I am and—"

"I told you I wasn't going to ruin this for you."

"Not there, Tom! Here! With you!" she stated, now pointing to the sidewalk below. "I've worked really hard for this moment."

"That's a lot of effort for a girl that doesn't care."

"Who doesn't care _anymore_! Anymore, Tom! Because once upon a time I cared. I cared a lot...too much, apparently! And I will never be that girl again. I won't be made a fool of like that again. I'm in control and I'm going to choose how this ends this time."

"How's that?"

There was silence. Heaving chests gave empty promises, ones that once had been filled by fast, senseless kisses.

"Here's fifteen quid," Sybil said calmly. "Pay for our drinks. There's enough there for tip. I'll see you on Monday."

In his defeat, Tom finally caught his breath. "Are you serious?"

"As serious as a heart attack," she gave facetiously.

"You're just going to walk away?"

The pause had both of them calm, if only for a moment. "I am. Watch me. I'm sure it'll look familiar."

* * *

I feel like I didn't do this chapter justice, but really when do I ever feel like I do these two justice? If you made it through, I appreciate you and would love to hear what you think.

x. Elle


	7. The Secret

Mary found the silent dance she and Matthew were performing around the kitchen to be a slightly troubling one. Even as she tore at the head of lettuce and washed each green leaf in a colander in the sink, she fought back the urge to turn around and demand answers from him. He, of course, was none the wiser.

It was late now, nearly eight o'clock and perhaps too close to bedtime for the two to prepare supper, much less enjoy it at the pace in which they preferred. This was their life now, at least while Matthew took on several high-profile litigations and Mary did her best not to submit to the exhaustion she felt so close to Gala season. Her pregnancy wore on her, but not as much as the fear she carried on her shoulders thinking about everyone else finding out.

Finally she did turn around. Her hands were still wet and neither paused when she moved to rest one into a fist on her hip. "Have you spoken to Sybil?"

From his position at the stove Matthew turned to her. He smirked, already chuffed by Mary's clear frustration. He'd watched her come home with it and was just waiting for this very moment. "No, not much. She sent me a text today wishing me luck before I went into the courtroom but only small things here and there. I texted her yesterday asking what Italian place she recommended I take a client to."

"That's it?"

In realizing this was not a fleeting conversation, Matthew turned down the stove. He even placed his wooden spatula delicately on the edge of the counter. If Mary weren't so annoyed, she would have scolded him. "Yes, that's it. Was I meant to talk to her?"

"No, I just figured you had. When she's miffed at me, she reaches out to you. It's her way of looking out for me without having to give in…" Mary's voice trailed off. When she returned even she was entertained. "She's far too sweet. It's disgusting, really…"

Matthew chuckled. He went to his fiance and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Are you two arguing?"

Immediately she softened into him, dropping her hand to play with the collar of his shirt - an act that also allowed her to avoid his gaze. "No."

"Then?" He questioned, now asking that she look at him.

"Well she hasn't really reached out to me either. Usually she says good morning and she asks how my day is going and if I'm feeling alright. It's been nearly a month since we've gotten lunch together."

"Maybe...well you're busy with the Gala coming up and she has that surgery. I know she's always working overtime and you're so tired with the baby maybe she doesn't want you to feel obligated to do those things if she asks."

"Or," Mary dragged out, "she didn't like my response when she told me about Tom."

"What response? You said she talked _at_ you...you said she barely gave you time to give much of an opinion."

"Well did she need to? I hate the bloke. That hasn't changed and I'm sure she knows it."

"Then maybe she doesn't want the judgement," Matthew offered up.

"What is there to judge? If she's seeing him every morning because he's her patient, she can't help that and if it's out of her control, there's really no room for judgement."

"Is that the only time she's seeing him?"

Mary's gaze had faltered again, causing her eyes to quickly search for his now. "What do you know?"

Matthew let out another breathy laugh. "I don't know anything...at least nothing about Sybil and Tom's relationship. But I do know Sybil and—"

"Well has she said anything?"

"Love," Matthew sighed, "I told you we really haven't spoken. I just…" There was a pause while Matthew thought of the most pragmatic way to share his notion. He even fixed the grip he had on Mary's midsection and took a step into her so the two were pressed tightly against one another. "I don't...this is hard for Sybil. And it's not hard because Tom is Sybil's patient. It's hard because it's always been hard. I know you don't want to admit it but I think Sybil truly loved Tom and you're going to absolutely laugh but I genuinely think Tom loved her too."

Mary's eyebrows lifted, all before falling to allow the way skepticism spread across her eyes. "Are you sure you haven't talked to her?"

"I swear I haven't," Matthew gave with yet another chortle.

"Do you...have you always felt this way?"

"Honestly? Yeah, I have. I just didn't think it was worth sharing—"

"Because I don't agree?"

"Well, yeah. But like Sybil I didn't want to argue. We don't agree on a lot of things but I still love you. Also, Sybil's not a teenager anymore. It doesn't really matter what I think because she's a grown woman who can make her own decisions."

"I'm just worried that decision is Tom…" Mary pouted.

"It might be. Or maybe she's done a brilliant job of ignoring him and she's just really, really busy. If you're worried, reach out to her. She may be distant now but she's never really lied to you…"

Mary's glance went to Matthew, demanding a correction. "Alright, well she lied to you about her and Tom but—"

"Exactly!"

"That was so many years ago, Mary. If you knew you would have been so upset...I mean, when you found out you were! And before that you texted me so many times asking what I thought or what I knew. But she lied for different reasons. Their relationship wasn't going to be taken lightly, even if you and your family did approve. But you really didn't so I probably would have lied too." Matthew thumbed at Mary's chin in request of her attention. She looked to him, still sad, but warmed all the same by his honesty. "I know we don't like to talk about it but I lied to you about some things once and believe it or not, I did it because I didn't want to hurt you. And like Tom, I made some pretty stupid decisions and you forgave me."

"We were young, Matthew," Mary gave with a drop of her shoulders. "We weren't dating or—"

"But I genuinely knew I loved you then and that scared me so I got angry when I heard about you and Tom and I did some truly idiotic things. Sometimes we push people away for what we think are selfless reasons. But deep down we do it because we don't like who we are...who we've become. I know you'll hate me saying this but you forgave me and things got better. You made me believe it was okay. Maybe Sybil can forgive him too and things might not have the same outcome we did. But I'm sure you can attest to there being a certain relief in forgiveness."

"I—"

"Sybil didn't like me, right? But you forgave me anyway. You had to come to that decision on your own. It's likely Sybil's doing that very thing."

"I just don't want her getting hurt, Matthew."

"She's already hurt, love. Not then but now...maybe if she's not reaching out, you should."

"I can't...I can't support it."

"First off, you don't even know if there's anything to support. Second, she supported you with me. She gave me a second chance. Maybe you owe her the same thing. Just be patient."

Mary's eyes bore into him. "I don't do well with patience."

"Yeah well sometimes you're shit with communication too. That's what I'm here for…"

Mary dropped her head back to laugh. When she returned to him she placed a soft hand to his stubbled cheek. "It's a good thing I forgave you because you make me sound very helpless…"

Matthew chuckled too. "You're hardly helpless. You're just stubborn. Sybil's stubborn too...it's in your blood. At the end of the day, she's going to follow her heart. She'll do what she thinks is right for her...you just may not hear about it right away."

~!~

As soon as Tom arrived home he went for the refrigerator. This was a typical pathway, one that had him grabbing for a bottle of ale and then turning the stove on so he could begin cooking. Today he also turned on his iPod, causing music to fill the room and drown out the shuffling he did to grab ingredients from the nearby pantry.

When he emerged he nearly collided with his sister. The rest of the house was still, quiet enough to where he initially believed he was alone, so he took a step back at the sight of her.

"What now?" Emilee asked, all before he had a chance to criticize her stealth.

"Christ, Em!" He finally gave. "I live here! This is my home!"

"Um, I'm sorry," Emilee groaned, rolling her eyes. "I didn't mean to catch you off guard, I just heard the music and—"

"Did you not hear me turn off the alarm? Because that happened too. You're not being robbed...it's just your brother coming home at the same time he always does on Thursdays."

Emilee studied him, doing so in an intense manner that had her eyes narrowing and her arms crossed over her chest. "What is up with you?"

"I'm making dinner," Tom said, gesturing to the food now on the counter.

"No...something's up."

"You have good and bad days too, don't you?"

Emilee places a fingertip to her lips, still trying to figure him out. It was the same way she had treated Rory when the teenager came home late after a night of partying. "I do but I don't blow up at my brother when he inquires about them. Why are you so tense?"

"I'm not tense. Actually, before you had to make a stupid comment, I was pretty relaxed."

Emilee was in awe, slightly offended but also pleased. With her answer she dropped her hands to her sides and took a step back like an artist admiring their work. "Holy fuck, you saw her, didn't you?"

"Who?"

"Sybil," Emilee responded, saying her name as if it was the only one in the world.

"I see her almost everyday…" Tom breathed out.

"No, you saw her outside of the hospital. She fucking gave you the time of day. You're a little shit and she's still that same sweet girl you fell in love with." Emilee looked away to shake off a laugh. "You lucky fucking bastard."

"I'm hardly lucky," he stated quickly. To show this, he began to move, first to the stove to warm some oil and then to a nearby cutting board where he chopped at an onion. He had been doing this for so many years he didn't even flinch at the acidity.

"You seem pretty happy...well, not happy. But satisfied. Your life's still shit, of course, but you don't look as annoyed as you usually do. In fact, I haven't seen you this happy in quite some time."

"I was happy the other day at Rory's football match. She did well," Tom reminded, also doing his best to steer her away from the subject.

Emilee exhaled, now moving to lean on the nearby countertop so she could continue to diagnose her brother. "Finding joy in your job and your niece isn't a fulfilling life, Tom."

"Oh yeah?" He snapped. "And how's your love life?"

She was just as fast to respond. "I left a place that I love because my ex-boyfriend beat the shit out of me. You tell me."

The room grew quiet and Tom realized, once again, how insensitive he was capable of being. It was as if he met Sybil and began feeling entirely too much and only when he pushed her away was he able to shut down again.

"Fuck, Em, I'm sorry…"

With eyes glossed over by tears, she stared straight ahead, her focus lost out the window above the sink. "I haven't said that out loud. Still. Yet," she added. "It _sounds_ even _more_ fucked up."

Tom abandoned his items at the stove and went to her. "There are good guys out there, you know. You just picked a really shite one and I get how you can't control what you're feeling but I'm hoping this is shining a bit of light onto things."

"You were a good guy," she reminded, moving her upper body toward him as if to give point such a thing out. "I've been seeing that version of you lately. I missed him…"

"I'm...I'm a good guy for Rory."

"Yeah and I love you for that. But I appreciate you letting me in. You stopped doing that for awhile...and by awhile I mean several years. Seven, in fact."

"Well I miss my older sister and the way she once looked at the world with such optimism."

"I'm a mum now," Emilee shrugged. Her brother's subtle criticism did nothing to change her situation. "Rory is my priority. The rest of it can go to hell for all I care."

"Don't you want that for her?"

"What? Love?" she scoffed. "Maybe you and I can show her there's more to life than love."

"I don't think that's fair."

Emilee's demeanor was lost; she was now angry at Tom but for different reasons. "You know, why can you want these things for her and for me, but you can't want them for yourself?"

"Oh, I do want them," Tom gave, his body in motion now as he headed back toward the stove. There were things he also didn't wish to discuss, and this, the very topic at hand, was one of them. "But I blew that chance."

"Yeah and I thought my life was over, Tom!" Emilee reminded with raised volume. "I thought that when I first got pregnant and I thought it again when Pat hit me. I'm done thinking that way," she spat.

"Yeah, well I'm not," Tom said, not even turning away from his place at the sink to do so. "I've accepted it."

"You just went out to eat with her. She saw you outside the hospital. I don't know if it's time to throw in the towel yet."

"Yeah? Well what if I already have?"

"Then pick it the fuck up and get over yourself," Emilee delivered sternly. "The worst you can do is have false hope and really, what have you had all along?"

"No hope," Tom deadpanned.

Emilee did not laugh. In fact, she was somewhat incensed by his comment. Tom had always asked that she be kind to herself and now he couldn't do the same. "That's bollocks and you know it."

"You know, why are you rooting for this all of a sudden?" He asked, his arms extended to show his clear indignance.

"I wouldn't say I'm rooting for anything but I'm certainly not against it. I once thought that it wasn't fair that you were happy and I wasn't. Now I have realized you're an insufferable arse and have been less so lately all because she's back in your life. Even if you don't deserve her...even if she eventually turns you down...she's made you easier to handle."

"So this is really all selfish?" Tom questioned over his shoulder. He'd returned to his meal and was now mixing several vegetables in the hot frying pan. "You're putting up with Sybil being back in my life because it makes it more manageable to put up with me?"

Emilee sighed. "Why do you always tell me to stay away from Pat?"

"Because he's a disgusting human being," Tom returned flatly.

"Alright. What else?"

"He makes you feel horrible about yourself and that's bullshit." Tom's answers came so easily, he did not hesitate to grab for several spices from the nearby rack.

"Okay. And what did you just say to me? I should do more than just be a mum. You want me to be happy, Tom. Maybe we're both old enough to realize that means letting the other person make their own decisions. I got pregnant and that changed me and then Pat came back and I'm different again. You eventually learn. London's been pretty okay so far. It's not Kinsale, but it will do. Rory's happy and work's okay for me. Maybe things aren't meant to work out the first time."

"They did though. They worked and I fucked it up."

Emilee took her own advice and equated Tom's irritation with emotions that could be directed anywhere but in her direction. "Grand," she said cheerily, but mostly in sarcasm. "We've established that. Many times. Now fucking fix it."

~!~

Their usual Monday meeting did not take place in the exam room in the way it typically did. Instead everyone gathered in Dr. Frye's office with Tom sitting before the doctor while the interns stood idly by, all of them leaning on a radiator near the window.

In front of them, Dr. Frye hid his face behind a file. The pages were rolled over the top while he studied the test results that hid underneath. It was clear Ben had prepared the document because he was struggling to decipher most of it. It also did not help that Dr. Frye had been out the week before, leaving Sybil, William, and Ben to conduct all of Tom's cardioversions.

"Why do most of these seem inconclusive?" He asked, now placing the file on his desk. All of this room was neat and until the man spoke, Tom spent his time looking around. Usually he'd pass the time on his phone, or he'd be so concentrated on his discussions with Dr. Frye that he didn't have time to take in all of the degrees and awards that filled each and every wall. Tom imagined Sybil's office would look like this someday - neat and filled with all she had worked so hard to achieve — at least that was what he had hoped for her.

"Well…" Ben began, already stammering when he'd barely delivered a thought. "The machine wasn't working properly…there...it was—"

Sybil stepped forward in his defense. "The electrode pads weren't delivering the right amount of current."

"Yeah," Ben confirmed. "And there was a delay in the shock so we couldn't pick up a consistent beat."

Dr. Frye nodded. He was always so calculated, no one thought twice when he took a long pause before speaking again. "Did none of you think this was important to tell me?"

"We figured we'd wait for the results to come back in," Ben explained.

"Well they're here," Dr. Frye pointed in jest. His words told a different story, that of frustration and disappointment. He dropped the file down onto his desk. It landed with a flat thud while it displaced all of the tense air around it. "And they're useless." He reached up to rub at his eyes, rolling the pads of his fingers against his eyes in a way that was both pleasant and uncomfortable.

"Can't we just do another one?" Tom offered. He sounded annoyed as well. "I mean, you just roll one of the machines in here and—"

"It's not that simple," Sybil stated, rolling her eyes. "There's prep and—"

"Didn't seem like there was too much prep on my end," Tom gave simply.

Sybil started again, this time with a determination that was encouraged by his curt nature. "If the machine's broken—"

"Maybe someone just doesn't know how to use it…" He stated simply, all while looking to Ben.

"That's really unfair," Sybil corrected. "You're not a doctor. It was the machine….stop being such a baby."

Tom had looked to Sybil but now slowly turned around in his seat. He shrugged and Dr. Frye sighed out, unsure of how to handle such an unlikely situation. He couldn't relieve Sybil of her duties but lately her actions toward Tom failed to give him any other choice.

"What are you doing next Friday?" Dr. Frye asked. It was his thoughts he was banishing now.

"I thought I'd skip work and throw a midday banger. Everyone's invited, of course," Tom stated sarcastically. When no one laughed, he sighed out and continued. "Nothing. No class on Fridays. What do you need? Do we have to do another one of these?"

"There's no prep, remember?" Sybil sassed. "Shouldn't be too much of an inconvenience."

Again, Tom could only deflate. He was tired and arguing with Sybil was the last thing he wished to do, but his main priority was getting her to succeed and he was being more conscious now to see how he could exist in her life and still have that happen. "Sure. Fine. Grand," he said. "What time?"

"Let's do nine," Dr. Frye decided. "I have a meeting at eight so everyone else can prep you."

Tom stood. Immediately he grabbed for his bag as if to make his first gesture toward the door. "Awesome. Anything else?"

Dr. Frye shook his head. Deep down he fought the urge to close his eyes again, knowing that to do so was to admit defeat. He needed Tom even more than he needed Sybil; he had practically chosen her for the single reason of having her assist him on this surgery and yet no operation would exist if Tom decided to quit the trial.

The residents grabbed their items as well, mostly files and cellphones that laid on the nearby conference table. In her exasperation, Sybil didn't even think to wait for William before exiting the room. Halfway down the hallway she was still so lost in her own vexation that her best friend had to say her name several times to gain her attention.

"Sybil! Wait, would you?"

She turned on her heel, her face flushed and her eyes wide to show that she truly hadn't heard him calling out for her. "What? Sorry…" She shook her head to dismiss the pieces of fringe that fell out of her messy bun.

"You okay?" He asked, almost breathless.

She thought for a moment. Her gaze left his and when it returned, she gave a small smile, as if to apologize for the truth. "No. I'm not."

~!~

When William arrived home, he did so quietly. Gwen's door was shut and the absence of light from underneath told him that she had already gone on her date with Rob. He was an investment banker, a more serious version of all of the other men she'd been with before him. All summer he'd watched her jump to and from relationship, unsure of whether it was her indecisiveness or overall fear of falling that had her constantly craving someone new. In a way, he admired her for that. He had only managed a few nights out with men that actually concerned themselves with his day. Usually William left only enough time for the occasional one-night stand. He didn't get their numbers and he honestly didn't care to; there were millions like him — millions of people in this world that felt just as lonely and unfulfilled as he often did. At least Gwen was brave enough to want more.

Sybil was home, but William didn't even bother to look. To do so would have taken him an extra effort, as her bedroom was toward the back of their flat. It was likely she was working late, or taking a spin class downtown. She disappeared on them sometimes, purposefully not inviting her friends so she could exist on her own. There was sanity in that being a choice due to the absolute heartbreak she once experienced when no other option was given.

Fresh out of the shower William laid back on his bed. He tapped at his typical phone applications: instagram, twitter, facebook, and grindr. Maybe he still had time to get ready and go out. Maybe Gwen would arrive home soon so he could ask if she wished to join him; the mere extended offer (even when denied) somehow made him feel better about what would ultimately be deemed a poor decision.

Before he could move, Sybil stepped into his doorway. Her appearance was not a graceful one, and William let out a small laugh as she began to walk toward him. She pouted, only accenting the mess of curls she tied back and how she wore clothing she had most likely stolen from him. Her petite form swam in the fabric and yet she immediately snuggled into her best friend, almost to ask for some of his warmth.

It didn't take much thought for him to roll to her, the two staring at one another like children ready to whisper beneath bedsheets long after they'd already been told to retire to bed. William's dark skin contrasted with her pale features. All of her was bare — raw — and only with her this close was William able to see just how sad Sybil looked. This was not exhaustion, or boredom. Instead she wore a smile and eyes that showed nothing but concern. Her lips existed on a precipice, humming gently while they thought of the best way to share something so private. It was instantly effortless; William simply couldn't be angry at her anymore.

"I'll tell you but you can't tell anyone," she gave softly. Her mouth still seemed to tremble and he wondered what it was she had been hiding from him. Suddenly he was nervous too.

William tried a typical tactic, one that always managed to make her smile. "Tell anyone? A secret? All my own? Oh boy!"

Sybil did not falter. In fact, it seemed to break her more. "No, Will...I'm serious, okay? You're the first to know and hopefully the only one. And if I cry—"

His eyes narrowed and his forehead creased under the pressure of confusion. "Oh no...you know how emotional I get when other people get emotional..."

"Yeah, well I don't," Sybil dismissed. There was a seriousness in her timbre that told William that the things his best friend was ready to share with him held an inexplicable weight. The only time he'd ever heard her sound so passionate was when she was discussing her cardiology career. "I can't do emotional anymore," Sybil began to explain. As she continued, her eyes darted away from his. "I've committed my life to anatomy and now this is suddenly more than just vessels and valves."

"Poetic."

Her gaze bounced back to his. "It's not. It's hell."

"What's hell?"

"Still loving him."

William's features escaped him. Sybil had only revealed something he knew to be true and yet the sound of it had him feeling shaken. "Oh, Syb..." He reached out for her back, working to pull her even closer. He was far larger than she was and the task was usually an easy one but Sybil had since moved to cover her face with her hands, making it so her crying had essentially pushed him away.

"It's...we...it was a long time ago and it all happened right before Harvard and he's—"

Sybil didn't need to say Tom's name for William to know who she was referring to. All of her was because of him lately and he wondered if she was aware of that fact. She must have been and now that was practically confirmed.

William forced a smile in sympathy. "I don't know if I need the full story, babe. I mean, does it matter? If you feel this way now..."

"I've always felt this way," she tried, even through her tears. Her hands fell away from her face but her vision was still clouded by all of her sorrow. Each tear painted her cheeks in a fiery pink, making William wonder if there was also anger in this reaction. "Do you know how scary that is?" Sybil continued. "To admit that to yourself? How pathetic am I?"

He began to run his hand in soft circles on Sybil's back. She was still not as close as he would have liked, but he gave her his support all the same. She was certainly closer than she had been lately — closer than she'd been since that first morning meeting with Tom.

"Considering he looked absolutely overjoyed to see you...not very. At least not any more pathetic than he was...is," William settled.

"Why does he want me?" Sybil nearly shrieked. There _was_ anger and he saw it now. William wondered if her indifference would have diminished if it were Tom holding her now. "He pushed me away and now he wants me back."

"Are you sure he wants you back?"

"Yes," Sybil breathed out. She was calm again and the sight was unnerving. "And this just confirms what most people know isn't true...and I'm ungrateful. Gwen and you agonize over whether or not some shitty bloke thinks about you. Why do you want them to think about you anyway? You deserve better. And honestly, they're probably not thinking of you," she admitted honestly, mostly with disregard. Sybil didn't need to reiterate all of the love she felt her best friends had deserved. It was all they hoped for her too but never voiced due to her clear disregard for the topic. "But I've always wondered that. And now I know...he thought about me as much as I thought about him. He still does."

"And you?"

"Of course I do. Still. I never stopped." Sybil's delivery was such an earnest one that William almost cried too.

"Is that the secret?"

"That's the secret."

* * *

If there were errors in this chapter, I apologize. I had an insane week at work and was waiting until I had solid time to donate to this so when it was finally done tonight I was just really excited to post it. Tell me what you think? So many guest reviews last chapter and I really loved reading what everyone had to say. I only wish some of you had usernames so I could respond.

x. Elle


	8. Pushing Back

**A/N** **:** This was meant to be part of a larger chapter but I realized it was running too long (and a certain someone was bugging me to post) so I figured I should split it in two and post the first part now. Enjoy!

* * *

Eventually Sybil did tell William all about Tom. She told him about Tom's upbringing, how she was wrong about him being middle-class. She told him about Dr. Kolberg and how bright Tom was, how she wasn't at all surprised to find he had landed an associate position at one of London's most prestigious universities. Sybil also told him about Tom's love for his sister and niece and how he'd taught her to run. Though she skirted around the issues, that tactic did not last for long. Soon she was telling him other things: their meeting at the party she was so against attending, their tense week in Ireland and then all of the lazy weekends they spent locked away from the world in Tom's Cambridge flat thereafter. What Sybil didn't tell William was just how truly in love she once was. Really, he didn't need an explanation. Such a thing was so apparent, not just in her storytelling but in the way she acted around Tom now, even as their encounters had turned each morning meeting somewhat sour.

In a way it was her animosity that directed each conversation. Tom had actually grown to be quite quiet. He said little, even biting his tongue when everyone else seemed to have appreciated a joke. His demeanor changed so drastically that Dr. Frye took notice, quipping that Tom's medication must have been working because his blood pressure actually did decrease.

Still Sybil was vexed and for reasons she was unaware of. There was resentment toward Tom, just as there had been from the moment he walked away, but now she was irritated too. William knew the answer and he wished Gwen was aware of all of this so he could discuss it with her. Sybil chose anger because her only other option was love; lying was actually easier when the truth carried with it so much pain.

Where Tom's mouth grew silent, he spoke out in other ways and it was becoming more and more difficult for Sybil to pretend she dreaded the little gifts she came in to each morning. Acting as if that was the case was manageable when the gift was a large bouquet of fresh flowers left at the nurse's station. The next day Tom toned it down, changing the peach-coloured roses to wildflowers, all wrapped in brown paper and tied off with a simple piece of twine. That gift was left in the breakroom on a bench nearest to Sybil's locker. She side eyed the gift and looked even more skeptically at William as she wondered who had told Tom what storage space was hers. He swore he hadn't but she focused on figuring out who did, distracting herself with that task to hide the way she secretly adored the arrangement. After that it was tea with the occasional croissant. Sybil didn't protest this present as much; her exhaustion kept her from having time to stop at a local cafe before work and she was far too tired to argue with hunger.

The gifts did not cease but the visits did. Sybil found herself looking up from the nurse's station or walking slowly out of Dr. Frye's office in hopes of catching Tom's eye. She was not successful and she wondered how it was suddenly so easy for Tom to just attend his meetings and disappear. Only then did she make sense of his persistence; Tom only pushed as much as Sybil wished him too, and unfortunately by the time she caught herself craving it, Tom gave up. He had done exactly what she asked and now she hated him for it and she hated herself now for having no right to feel that way.

This explained why Sybil was surprised when Tom finally found her one day. She was looking up at a vital signs monitor, using the screen to prepare a prescription. In her peripheral she saw someone approach but she paid the shadow no attention. While she still wanted him to reach out to her, she was not surprised when each day passed and he did not. Now, with him close and all of him lacking any pretense, she still somehow managed to fall into her old ways, immediately greeting him on the defensive.

"I'm not here to start anything…" Tom revealed, doing so calmly. His usual work bag was hanging off his shoulder and his hands were stuffed stiffly into the pockets of his jeans.

"Just saying hi?"

"Well, no…" he replied, looking away.

"I'm…" She looked to him and was suddenly lost. She felt no animosity toward him but was once again upset with herself. Tom must have seen this because his posture shifted too. He looked her up and down but his gaze lacked want and was replaced with pure concern. Seeing this, Sybil dropped her head to her hands. When she reappeared, she forced a smile as if to apologize for what she was about to say. Tom was just as unsure as she was, wondering whether Sybil's regret was directed inwardly or in his direction. "Wow...I can't believe I'm going to say this but I'm...I'm sorry for blowing up on you the other day."

Tom shrugged. "It's seriously okay."

"Well it's not because I'm an adult and—"

"You do a lot of saying what you are instead of being that person. It used to be the opposite."

It was a flash of the old him and Sybil couldn't help but to smirk back in his direction. Even so, she persevered. This was the presence she missed and she believed she owed it to him to find herself again.

"You know what else used to be the opposite?" she asked, now with a hand pressed firmly to her hip. "You cutting me off."

"I cut you off plenty I just did it with my lips."

Sybil rolled her eyes. "Well I'm sorry."

Tom sighed out, also declaring a truce, one that seemed to be as a result of the disappointment he felt with himself. "S'okay. I was actually going to thank you for going out with me. I feel better now."

Sybil paused. She dropped her pen down onto her paperwork to give him her full attention. "You do?"

"Yeah. I get it, you know? I'll stop pushing. It's not fair and you don't deserve it so I'm just going to listen from here on out. I'll play by Dr. Frye's rules and I'll try to respect your space and—"

"Wait, what?" Sybil seethed. The volume of her voice did not change but the pitch certainly did.

"Yeah, so have a good rest of your day." Tom hadn't even stopped talking and already he was turned away from her, ready to head back down the hallway.

"Wait, _what?_ " Sybil tried again, this time with more volume and another hand on her hip.

Tom smirked and turned back to her. "What part of this is confusing? Isn't this what you wanted?"

 _No_ , Sybil thought. It was such a blaring sentiment that she briefly wondered if she actually had said it out loud. "Yes," she swallowed.

"Alright then…"

"I mean, no!" she admonished with closed eyes. "No! It's not what I wanted." Then: "I don't know what I want…"

Tom took a step back in her direction. "Well I don't want you to be friends with me just because you think I might die. Or because you feel bad for me."

"I don't think either of those things."

"Well I don't know what you want from me, Syb."

Sybil sighed. It didn't matter what she wanted because this seemed to be an argument she'd already lost. "I don't...I don't know either."

"Listen, you have a lot going on and I don't want to get in the way. I'm still really glad you're helping with all of this. I still think you're brilliant and you honestly look fit in those scrubs but I'm going to leave you alone because I know that you're far too nice to tell me that's what you want."

This time he did walk away and Sybil let him, but only momentarily. Soon she was running after him, catching up so she could occupy the space that separated him from the door. "Give me your hand," she requested.

Sybil did not wait for him to fulfill it. She took his hand and almost immediately the two noticed how intense this all seemed, even as she lacked hesitation in writing her cellphone number on his palm. When she dropped his wrist, she took a step back and stuffed her purple pen back into her scrubs as if proud of her work. "Text me. I don't know why I'm doing this but I'm not going to overthink it. I don't want to hang out outside of work but we can talk...about whatever you want."

Tom smiled. All of him felt dizzy but instead of questioning it, he took her in one last time before walking away.

Sybil was ready. Not for the whole truth, and certainly not for the secret she shared with Will over a week ago, but maybe she could tell Tom other things. She would open her wounds and slowly let the blood seep out and maybe then Tom would realize she'd never truly healed when the color was not rust-like but instead a fresh bright red.

~!~

Sybil knew this feeling. It was the same one she experienced when she stole Tom's phone number out of Mary's phone. She was excited, a teenage girl again, thrilled by thought of Tom texting her. It didn't happen quickly though and instead of examining why, she spent what was the first of her three days off, showering, imagining Tom resisting the urge to reach out. Then, she imagined other things - a glass shower like the one she stood in, the muscles of Tom's back and the way he used to kiss her neck.

When the water turned cold, Sybil's bare form remained still, enjoying a quiet moment she wasn't typically afforded. She pushed back at her hairline, her lungs contracting as each droplet of water made its way off her naked skin and toward the tile below. As she finally moved she felt just how frozen the air around her had become. She shivered, wondering how in her chill she still couldn't shake the way she thought of him as if her interest was a new one. What she had admitted to William was that she'd never truly gotten over Tom. Not once did she mention that she was okay with those feelings. Actually, Sybil didn't yet know how she felt about all of it. Currently she was doing her best not to feel anything at all, paying attention instead to the temperature in the room instead of the emotions swirling around in her head.

In revolt of the inevitable, Sybil took a nap. She and Tom once enjoyed those too. He made ordinary things exciting — he made her ordinary life exciting.

When it came, it did so in a way that had Sybil confused. She was expecting and waiting for a text message but to actually receive one had her speechless. Maybe though she was just groggy after her short slumber, or punishing herself for wanting something so much.

"Hey are you at work?" His texting habits clearly had not changed. They lacked most punctuation, with capitalization occurring only because it was a default setting on his phone. Still she could hear him in each word and she wondered now what he was wearing, where he was, and who he could have possibly been with.

Even so, she gave a rather casual response, one that required extensive editing only to appear simple, and as was typical in her attitude toward him, short. "Nope. Day off."

"Wow, look at you. Didn't know you took those."

"I do. They make you, actually. I have some hours to use before the year ends and the cardiology floor has been dead lately."

"Dead? Yeah?"

Sybil pictured Tom with raised eyebrows. Never before had she been more comfortable with someone poking fun at her, even now. "Empty? Ooops."

Tom went to type but the bubbles that surged on Sybil's screen eventually stopped and she only thought of him suppressing whatever it was he wished to say. Not wanting to lose him, she continued. "What are you up to?"

"Grading papers," he returned rather quickly.

"Riveting."

"It's horrible."

"Why?"

"None of them try," Tom conceded. "They're all too hungover or too exhausted from their other classes or too focused on their extracurriculars to care."

"Maybe you're a boring professor."

Tom smirked. "Maybe."

"Nah, I bet you're a good professor."

"I get pretty good ratings online."

"Ratings?" Sybil sat forward on her bed. She felt she should have been distracting her hands with something else — a book or a cup of tea.

"Ratemyprofessor."

"What is that?"

"Are you serious?" Tom was in his kitchen now, moving from counter to counter in an attempt to prepare that night's meal. Rory sat at the kitchen table typing at her laptop, making the time between Sybil's text cause Tom to realize how abnormally casual this domestic setting felt.

"Dead serious," Sybil joked. She laughed at her own quip but lost her smile when she wondered if she had made him laugh too.

"It's this website where students can go on to rate other professors. It was originally meant to help students control what classes they took. A class may look great but if the professor is a wanker, who cares?" The speed at which he texted had certainly increased and Sybil was glad for this fact. It used to be painful to wait for his responses and she was thankful that was no longer the case because calling him didn't seem to be an option now.

"So how are your ratings?"

"Go check them out." He placed his phone down but soon retrieved it once again. "I'll wait."

A moment passed. Tom pictured Sybil scrolling through each review on her phone, her eyes wide while her screen painted her face in a light glow. "Bloody hell…"

He chuckled and Rory looked to him, questioning him with a skeptical glance only made capable by a teenager. "Yeah, I think I'm going to take down my diploma and put these up instead."

Sybil actually laughed out loud. "LOL. Like...really...the girls really like you."

"Are you surprised?"

"No, I guess not."

"It's worth noting that a few blokes like me as well. They think I'm hilarious."

"There are some fairly serious reviews on here...none of them bad."

"No, not too bad."

"The worst thing I'm seeing is that you sometimes go off on a tangent. This kid called you a nerd."

"I failed that kid for that review."

"Really?"

"No haha" The water Tom was boiling had been raging for several minutes now. He didn't notice but Rory had because she made a loud noise with her rucksack as if to ask that he pay attention to the world outside his phone. He looked up and his face grew serious as he turned back toward the stove but even as he continued to tend to his meal, he stared at his phone, waiting for her response, hoping he had given her enough flexibility to receive one.

"What's it like? Is it weird being on that end of it?"

"Um...not really. Kind of, I guess. I was a student for so long and apparently the professor I liked was a giant fuck…"

"What happened to Kolberg?"

"He teaches at a small college in Connecticut. I don't know if you've heard of it."

"Doubt it."

"YALE."

Sybil's mouth dropped open and her fingers worked to tap at her screen at a speed that showed her shock. "Shut up." Unlike Tom her concentration hadn't left their conversation and she was incapable of seeing how odd she looked so wrapped up in a moment sitting in a room that was eerily silent.

"No, really, he does."

"Are you kidding?"

"Wish I was. I mean, he's brilliant. If you apply yourself you can learn a lot...the most you ever will. But that's usually only possible if you're a guy...apparently."

"Did they not check his references?"

"Must not have. Or he didn't put your dad down." Tom wondered if Sybil felt awkward hearing him address her father.

She did not. Really, she barely noticed. "Probably the latter."

"Maybe not. The guy's written several books. Not really necessary to call his old bosses."

Sybil nodded. "True."

The conversation stilled. Tom used the time to prepare his food. He felt he was giving her space, unaware that she was dreading each passing moment on the other line. She had waited all day for him to make contact and now that he had Sybil wondered if that was it. Maybe what he had said that previous morning was true; Maybe Tom didn't want to push her too far away. Now Sybil spent each silent second thinking of a way to ask him to push, if only so she could push back.

* * *

x. Elle


	9. The Back and Forth

Gwen did not ask who Sybil was texting. For one, she didn't feel the need to start an argument. Sybil was also so happy, she did not want to ruin that by bringing light to the situation. Mostly though, Gwen didn't want to discuss the fact that she knew the answer — and it terrified her.

Everyone else noticed as well, though their ability to make a connection was certainly clouded. With her wedding and the exhaustion she experienced from her pregnancy, Mary was not around as much and Matthew's presence dwindled as well because of this. Sybil and Tom somehow managed to limit communication at the hospital, and though William saw the way the two would occasionally share subtle silent moments, like Gwen he didn't want to inquire. He saw the way Dr. Frye was initially skeptical of the two and with Sybil being his best friend, he resolved to do everything he could to keep her in Dr. Frye's good graces. It seemed the only thing William would not do was reveal what he imagined was a very delicate relationship with a patient.

It was odd, at best. Sybil still attended Psycle. She still went out with Gwen and Will and they invited Ben now and the four would laugh together. She did not rush out afterward, but it was clear when she was home that she wished to be alone. The only problem was that she was not alone. Her thumbs tapped erratically at her glass screen, making contact with Tom just as soon as her bedroom door was shut.

"I have a question," she began one night. She should have waited for a response but she knew that with Tom there was almost always a delay. She took the time to instead get out of her scrubs and change into some pyjamas. Somehow this was the most relaxing part of her day and yet it had her heart beating the fastest.

"Go."

Sybil picked up her phone and smiled at the screen. "How were you diagnosed?"

"I had really awful chest pain and apparently when that happens everyone takes you very seriously. I thought it was kind of comical but Em was really worried so she made me go to the doctor who made me go to the hospital where they basically told me I was dying."

Sybil rolled her eyes and let out a small laugh, all while falling back onto her bed. She did get comfortable and she wondered if he was doing the same. "You're not dying. Stop saying that."

Tom was not. Tonight he was attending one of Rory's football matches. His niece was doing well, even better than she typically was, and yet he couldn't keep his eyes off his screen. Even before Sybil had reached out, Emilee watched as her brother's hands itched at his pockets, wishing to check his phone. "I could though...right?"

"I mean..everyone can technically die during any operation. You can die getting your tonsils out."

"What a way to go," Tom quipped.

There was a lull in conversation and Sybil, afraid of losing him, found herself continuing it to drown out the silence. She imagined him constantly waiting for her, being just as respectful as he ever was, especially now when he still believed she needed so much space. "Were you scared?"

"Not really." His immediate response confirmed this was the case.

"Really?"

"No...not really," he clearly joked. "Should I be?" he added.

He rarely double texted, causing Sybil to pause. "I'm worried."

"What?"

"I don't like knowing it's you." She knew she wasn't making sense so she tried again. "There's a lot of pressure operating on someone you know. I honestly don't know if Dr. Frye should be allowing it...actually, I do know. He shouldn't be."

"He better. I don't want to do this without you now." It hurt too much so she pulled away. Sybil looked around her room and let out a sigh all before standing up and going to the living room to watch television with Gwen. Tom let her, giving her space even if it hurt him too. In a way he knew that his words revealed too much vulnerability, but everyday she was making him more and more brave. Now with his phone tucked back in his coat pocket, he turned to his sister and forced a closed-mouth smile all before returning his attention to Rory's game, his energy completely depleted.

~!~

"Why is Emilee here?"

Tom had been waiting all night for Sybil to reach out and he had honestly given up on that notion when he didn't hear from her by 8 o'clock. It was rare that they went a day without talking, but it had in fact happened before. The conversation the two had the next night made up for it, as Sybil and Tom fought sleep to instead discuss the state of English politics. It was all either wanted but they were both exhausted at the next morning's meeting and the similarity was not one they wanted to have to explain away more than once.

"In London?"

"Yes."

"She needed a change," Tom responded with calculation. There was hesitation in his typing, and not just because his words were always stunted.

"Is that code for 'I don't want to tell you'?"

"No. It's code for 'I _can't_ tell you,'" he emphasized.

"Gotcha." Tom could hear in his head just how Sybil would have delivered the line and he smiled at the imaginary sound. "Why are you here?"

"This is where I got a job."

"I know."

Even though she couldn't see or hear him, Tom laughed. "Then why did you ask?"

"I guess my question is, why did you stay?"

"Wait. No. I have a question." As promised, he asked another. "How did you know?"

"My dad."

"You lie."

"He wrote you a reference, you know."

"I actually did know."

"Oh."

"It was kind of him. I sent him an email when I found out but he never responded."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"I guess it doesn't surprise me either," Tom shrugged. He honestly hadn't given it much thought. Really he expected no response but he often wondered if the Vice Chancellor even took time to read his expression of gratitude. He must have, especially if Sybil was privy to the fact.

"So why did you stay?"

"I liked the job I got."

"It's a good job," Sybil confirmed.

"You seem to know the answers to all of these questions…" If she were in his bedroom, Tom would have side eyed her. At the same time, if she were in his bedroom, Tom didn't think he'd be able to manage much outside of breathing.

Sybil smirked. "I'm getting confirmation."

"Mhm."

She shook her head in dismissal of his attitude. "How's Rory doing?"

"Am I being interviewed? Is this a test?"

"Hardly."

"She's good. Smart. More athletic than she is smart but she's still pretty bright."

"Does she have a boyfriend?"

"No, thank god."

"You better not be mean to her."

"I'm hardly mean. Thankfully she cares too much about football to have time for any of that."

"THANKFULLY," Sybil joked. "God forbid the girl enjoy herself."

"Well when she does, I don't want to know about it. I'll turn a blind eye...can I ask some questions now?" It seemed he was playing her games only so he could set up some rules of his own.

"Umm…"

"It's only fair."

"Alright."

"What's Will's deal?"

"Will is my best friend," Sybil returned simply. Wasn't this obvious? Didn't Tom see the way the two joked before and after meetings? Or maybe it was Tom's aversion to the way Sybil often touched William, pressing a hand to his chest or wrapping her arm around his waist when the two walked down the hall together.

Tom paused; _best friend_ was a title he used to own and it was this relationship with Sybil that he missed the most. "Did you meet him at Harvard?"

"I did."

"And he lives here now?"

"No, he flies in every morning from Baltimore and then flies home again at night." Sybil chuckled at her own joke.

If she and Tom were still dating, he'd call her out for being so cheesy. For someone so intelligent and beautiful, there was a side to Sybil she only showed to a few select people. Once upon a time, Tom was one of those people. For a short period, he was the only one, and it stung now while he realized that he was not entitled to want to be that person for Sybil again, especially because it was his choice to give her up.

"Alright, no need to be sassy…"

"He's gay. Before you make any assumptions."

"I don't care." Sybil paused. Of course he didn't, or rather, of course he'd say that he didn't. "Are you actually dating anyone then?" But those were casual words for a boy that didn't care.

Sybil didn't even hesitate when she threw her phone to the side. The conversation was over now.

~!~

Tom didn't text for many days. Actually, the more she thought about it (and she had time to think about things now, with him no longer occupying her time each night) it was always her to initiate their conversations but she still missed the way his name used to once constantly grace her screen as if it were something she had no control over. She had stopped communication and she wanted him to fight back. Perhaps out of embarrassment or even acknowledgement of her sensitivity, Tom did not. He was giving her the space he felt she needed and deserved and all Sybil wanted was to have him closer.

"Where were you today?" Sybil finally texted one night, doing so with no salutation beforehand.

"Busy. Didn't Frye tell you?"

His response came easily and she wondered why that was; even when the two were dating he was notorious for leaving his phone somewhere inconvenient. Maybe he used the device to check emails and organize notes for his classes. The only other option was that he was waiting for her to reach out and for whatever reason Sybil found that to be the less probable choice.

"Why do you always drop everyone's title? Dr. Kolberg. Dr. Frye."

Tom smirked. "Because I'm Dr. Branson now and it sounds stupid...Why do you always avoid my questions?" he asked simply.

Sybil grinned. She wondered if he was referencing her previous dismissal but knew that was unlikely. "No, Frye didn't tell me, smartass. We just didn't go to see you today so I thought you were dead."

"Logical deduction," Tom quipped.

"It'd be the easier conclusion," Sybil explained. She wasn't aware but her smirk had turned to a full smile. "I'm starting to really stress out about this procedure..."

"Why? If I die, I die."

Sybil shifted upon her bed, almost as if his words unsettled more than just her mind. "Why are you saying that?"

"Because it's not that big of a deal."

"WHAT?"

"I'm sorry. I'm driving. One second." Tom tossed his phone into his cup holder so he could turn his steering wheel more easily.

"Stop texting and driving!"

He saw the device light up and he grabbed for it once more. He had several more traffic lights before he reached his flat and he used each one to talk to her. It was probably the first time he'd obeyed each street sign since moving into this neighborhood over three years ago. "Yes, mum."

"STOP!"

"Alright, I'm home. God, you're pushy."

"You're the worst, mate. Don't get me started."

Tom smiled. "We're mates now?" It was a word Sybil had never used before and he wondered if that was because she never had any reason to. They were never friends, really. Best friends, perhaps, but only because they were lovers too and the two were titles both believed should be synonymous. Though they existed in some type of relationship that lacked a label such an ordinary term was too meaningless, even now, to describe just what they were.

"Hardly."

Tom chuckled, wondering if Sybil even believed her own lie. "We talk a lot. We're totally mates."

"Not mates," she dismissed. "And stop avoiding my question."

"You avoid my questions all the time!" he gave, slightly annoyed but mostly out of amusement.

"Are you home now?"

"Yes, I told you I was."

"No, I mean inside," Sybil explained.

"Yes. Christ!"

"Good. Find the nearest wall and please bang your head into it. Over and over again. Please."

Tom went immediately for the kitchen. Once inside he reached for a beer from the fridge. He used to do the same thing when the two talked on the phone all those years ago. Now he only wished he could hear her voice and a pang of guilt rang out from deep within him as he felt just how intense his craving had become.

"Wow. Harsh. Now I don't know if I want to be friends with you."

"Alright you arse, explain to me why you're so blase about your life?"

"I'm not blase about my life." He sent another text immediately after. "Can I just call you? I hate fucking texting."

"No."

Tom smirked. "Alright then...I'm just saying that if this is the way I'm meant to go, this is the way I'm meant to go."

"That's a really messed up way of looking at it."

"Actually I think that's a really healthy way of looking at it."

"Are you taking your pills?"

His amusement disappeared, replaced now by the truth of Sybil being no more than just his doctor. "Yes ma'am."

"Do you think they're helping?"

"Honestly, I don't know," he texted simply. "I think the smoking might be."

"And the drinking?"

Tom was at his bedroom door now and he pushed inside using the same hand that carried his beer. The other hand held his phone, making his response to Sybil a slowly delivered one. "I made no promises there."

Every once in awhile Sybil was reminded of the man she met when dragged to a university party with her older sister. All too often he was standing in front of her, or in this instance, on the other end of the phone line. "I still think you're depressed," she accessed, dismissing her memory of him.

"And I still don't know if that's your business." Tom was on his bed now. Somehow this was where he felt the most comfortable talking to her, just as they once found solace in the small loft of Tom's university flat.

"You're my patient. It's totally my business."

"Focus on my heart, would you?"

"Well do you think you are?"

"No. I think I'm about to be thirty-five and I can do what I want."

"You sound like a child."

"Probably."

"Alright you're being nasty. Goodnight, Tom."

"It's barely 9PM." Nine o'clock and too late for him to attempt to keep this conversation going.

"Goodnight, Tom." Even without noice her voice was so sweet. Immediately Tom moved to do what Sybil had asked him not to. He called her, listening as the phone gave out several pronounced rings against his ear. When Sybil's answering machine picked up, he let out a frustrated groan and threw his phone to the floor. It was early and it was likely Sybil was exhausted, but he knew all the same that she most certainly was not asleep. And he also knew their rule: they would not talk about this at the hospital the next day.

~!~

When Tom's phone went off he instantly picked his head up off his pillow. He was only on the edge of slumber and if the past few nights were any indicator, he doubted his body would let him go any further. He'd spent the last hour debating over whether or not he should get up and grade papers, but even in accepting sleep as a lost cause, he found he did not want to get out of bed. This resulted in his current position, face down with his head stuffed into his pillow, his eyes closed only to convince himself that maybe he'd get more than two hours of sleep tonight.

"Are you sick?" the text read. He blinked, even moving to turn on his bedside lamp. The room turned to a golden hue as Tom continued to study his phone. When he was coherent enough to respond, he paused before doing so. He wondered if she had sent the text in error, or maybe she had sent it earlier and he was only receiving it now.

"You already told me I was sick," he responded hesitantly.

When her response was immediate, he let out a heavy sigh of relief. "No, is that why you haven't been there this week?" Sybil clarified.

"Are you worried?"

"No. Answer the question."

Tom could tell Sybil was irritated, mostly with herself he assumed. It was all he wanted to learn that Sybil was thinking of him in the middle of the night but he could only imagine the agony she was experiencing in having to raise that emotional white flag.

"No. It's finals week."

"Okay."

"Okay?" A moment passed and then several more and when he received no response, Tom tried again. "Why are you awake? It's fucking 3am."

"Why are you awake?" Sybil shot back in a childlike manner.

"I'm always awake at 3am. I don't sleep. These pills don't help."

"The pills have nothing to do with it."

"Oh yeah? Diagnose me then."

"You're scared and stressed out," Sybil admitted honestly. "There's your diagnosis."

"I'm not scared."

"Well then you're a liar too."

"Do you want to go get fry up?" It was Tom's turn to be brave and he only did so for the same reason Sybil had: he knew she'd give him an answer.

"Where?"

"Polo Bar."

"I've never been there."

"Great. A perfect time for us to go."

There was yet another pause. "Do you miss me?" Sybil sassed.

She was kidding, of course. Soon she'd find that Tom was not.

"Yes." he said, not missing a beat.

It was bold and Tom expected Sybil to stop talking to him. Instead she sent a one-worded text in response. "Sure."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Things are just about to pick up...

x. Elle


	10. The Long Way

Tom didn't know how to explain it, his need to smile at someone who always managed to be everything except excited to see him. Then there was the internal argument thereafter where Sybil would look away and Tom would be forced to remind himself that she had every reason to keep up the walls she'd worked tirelessly to build. After all, they were walls built with him in mind; hadn't he practically given her the idea behind their structure? But even that was tricky because believing that maybe Sybil wasn't feeling as cold as she appeared gave Tom hope while the other much more realistic part of him tried not to take advantage of all the times she allowed him near. Maybe he couldn't help but to smile or couldn't help but to think she meant something she was incapable of showing but maybe Sybil also believed in the distance she was keeping between herself and him and maybe it was more possible those meters would never dwindle. Maybe while Tom was working to break down these barriers, Sybil was only ensuring they were strong enough to keep him out.

Sybil's hair was braided tonight and she wore flats, a usual change from the trainers she wore at the hospital. When she emerged from the underground her eyes bounced from the pavement to his and then back down again. It had rained earlier and as Tom waited for her he began to notice all of the city in neon lights reflected in puddles upon the street. When he hopped on the tube on the other side of town, it was still sprinkling and he hoped that was not the case in her neighborhood. He had offered her a ride and was sad to find she didn't take it. He was less so now, seeing her here, but he wouldn't have been surprised if she used the weather as an excuse to avoid seeing him.

"Hey…"

"Hey," Tom said back, this time with a small laugh to match his smirk.

"Where's your car?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as they scanned up and down the street.

The two began to walk, their legs extending in time as they continued down the quiet sidewalk. "In the carpark below my flat."

Sybil raised her eyebrows. "You didn't drive?"

"You didn't want a ride," he explained casually.

"That doesn't explain why you didn't drive here…"

"I think it does," Tom countered. Every day he was shedding his fear of challenging her. "I'm lazy and I didn't want to have to start up my car and then pay for parking—"

"But you would have if I wanted a ride?"

The two were at the entrance to Polo Bar now and the lively atmosphere past the glass storefront was already inviting them inside. Tom reached forward to open the door for Sybil and when he did, she moved past him easily. "Of course I would have." It was Sybil's turn to give him a smile and as Tom saw it he prayed it was not a forced one.

Together the two stepped further into the restaurant. "Where do we sit?" Sybil asked while her eyes scanned the crowd. Initially she thought she'd feel odd being out this late. Somehow all she could remember here were the innocent moments her and Tom used to share every Sunday morning when they ate brunch at their usual cafe in downtown Cambridge. It was so casual she hadn't realized the way Tom pressed his hand to her back, steering her toward a table so others could sit. Tom mustn't have noticed either because when Sybil looked to him she saw only the way he wore wide eyes like a child caught doing the very thing he was instructed not to do.

"Anywhere," he attempted to distract his mouth from apologizing and ultimately bringing more attention to the situation.

"Why is it so crowded?" she asked immediately after.

"Stop questioning the magic that is Polo Bar, princess. Just enjoy the experience."

"Don't call me princess," she asked with an icy stare. Tom could only give a breathy laugh, his hands still itching to reach out for her waist again.

There was an empty table in the corner and Sybil tossed her bag down and scooted in. Tom followed and there was an awkward shuffle thereafter as the two worked to shrug off their coats. It was chilly outside but almost too warm in the restaurant and the air smelled of a somehow pleasant combination of coffee and grease. It was inexplicably encouraging, causing Tom to grab for a menu.

Sybil did not move as quickly. She was still studying her surroundings, taking in the photos on the walls and the other patrons that ate and talked to one another with vigor that practically had the entire diner vibrating with sound. She was used to the hour but not the location and she wondered now why she had accepted Tom's offer; a hospital past midnight apparently had nothing in common with the world outside of it. Beyond wanting to see him and feeling relieved now that she had, she still heard the more reserved parts of her whispering reminders of how this could end. All the while Tom was still taking her in — still smiling from behind his laminated menu.

"This is a wall," Sybil commented flatly, referring to the stone material that comprised the booth they had chosen. "I'm sitting on a wall…"

Tom chuckled but his eyes remained on the paper he held in his hands. "I can't believe you've never been to Polo Bar."

"Why's that?"

He looked up now. "Because you work the night shift a lot and this is right near the hospital. Also, most importantly, it's feckin' delicious."

"I eat hospital food."

"Who actually admits that? That's disgusting and you should stop," Tom stated matter of factly. The old Sybil would have laughed; the new Sybil wanted to.

Sybil's eyes followed a plate as it exited the kitchen and was set down before a customer who accepted the food with quiet excitement. "Why? _This_ is hardly good for you."

"Well at least it's good for the soul," Tom explained before returning his attention to his menu. He knew what he wanted before he'd even looked at it but he found his eyes needing a distraction with her so close.

"The soul maybe...not great for your heart."

"Are we here as friends or am I your patient now?"

"I'm your doctor," she responded indifferently, not quite answering his question.

"Well hospital food tastes like nothing. And I'm sure even with that low-sodium no-sugar garbage it's not that great for you either..."

Sybil shrugged. "You get used to it. And you will need to because you'll be in recovery for at least a week."

"A week?" Tom retorted rather loudly.

"What do you and Dr. Frye talk about when it's just you and him in his office? He should be telling you all of this…"

"Well he's not," Tom huffed. "Thank god for you or I'd wonder if I'm having this operation at all."

"You're such a baby!" she tossed back.

"I'm a baby? I'm doing this because I could die—"

"You're not going to die," Sybil droned, adding to it a slow eye roll.

Tom continued nonetheless, playing into the immature role she'd cast him in. "I _could_ die," he reiterated, "and I feel like I don't have many options. But how would you feel with some strange bloke cutting you open? They're essentially going to remove my heart from my chest."

"Not quite," Sybil scoffed. "Besides, I'll be there. Me and Ben and Will."

"Is that supposed to be comforting?"

"You told me it was."

"Yes, you," Tom agreed with a nod in her direction. "Having the rest of them there cancels you out."

"You're incorrigible, you know that?"

Tom was done. He'd raised Sybil to the level of rage he liked her at and then watched, ever so slowly, to see how long she'd remain her there. He'd fallen in love with how sweet she was but her passion and the way it sometimes came across as anger, was what sparked that initial flame of attraction. He did rile her up, then because it usually led to a rough night of lovemaking. Now he did it because he knew Sybil wouldn't walk away and each time he pushed he found himself shocked at how willing and ready she was to push right back.

She sighed out. "Like I was saying...I pack my lunch a lot...then I let that sit in the fridge while Will and I go get pastries across the street."

"Pastries?"

"Cake. Donuts. Scones. You name it."

"Some things never change…"

"Well I don't have time to cook for myself much less the time off for an actual lunch and I don't have you to cook for me anymore so…" Sybil knew what she'd said and somehow her reservation in saying it made the sound all the more satisfying.

Again Tom was smiling. "I'm there everyday, Syb. I could always—"

"Do you cook for yourself?" Sybil questioned quickly, hoping to banish Tom's genuine offer.

As she did a waitress appeared. Sybil had barely looked at the menu but when Tom ordered a full fry-up she couldn't help but to follow his lead. When the waitress was gone, Sybil thought she'd have to pick another topic but Tom gave her his response.

"Almost every night. Usually for Rory and Emilee too."

"Well they're lucky to have you."

"Tell them that. Em's a vegetarian now and Rory's the pickiest eater I know. You'd think I was their personal chef."

Sybil smirked. "Well aren't you? You do everything else for them."

Tom studied her. "Is that a compliment or judgement?"

Sybil sat back in the booth. "Why would that be judgement?" she laughed. "I think it's admirable...you know, doing all you've done. I know they're family but I'm sure it's still hard. You have your life too."

"I'm living my life," Tom assured. Sybil said nothing so Tom smirked and leaned in. "What makes you think I'm not living my life?"

Sybil swallowed but so she didn't appear vulnerable she persevered in giving him an answer. "Because you're—" The waitress arrived back, bringing with her their ordered meals. The pair thanked her and when she was gone, Sybil realized she was incredibly grateful for the interruption. The matter Sybil was ready to comment on concerned an area where she was also lacking and it terrified her now to realize how closely she associated love and happiness.

~!~

When Matthew returned home he was surprised to find Mary was still up. It was nearly one in the morning and with her pregnancy, lately they were both lucky if she made it much past eight. He was hungry, or at least that was what he had planned when he left his office: he'd eat, shower, and quickly slip into bed beside his fiance all while hoping not to wake her. It seemed that wish was useless now.

He walked to their bedroom where the light was on and leant against the doorframe to get a better view of her. She sat quite still, her delicate fingers grabbing for clothing out of the nearby laundry basket.

"Love?" Matthew asked with an amused grin.

Mary looked up. In her hands she held a baby onesie. She turned it around to show Matthew as if he hadn't helped her pick it out the other day. "Does this look like it will fit a newborn?"

"Uhh...I guess so? That's what it says, right? I mean—"

Mary shut her eyes and moved on to the next item. "I know what it says, Matthew. I was asking for your _opinion_ ," she emphasized.

"I haven't been around a newborn in a while, love. If he's anything like I was, he'll be a plump lad and it really won't matter what size everything is."

Mary tossed her hands down, this time with more sadness than anger. "What if he comes early?"

"And ruins the wedding?" Matthew asked with a sly smile. As he spoke he took several more steps into their bedroom and now stood so he was almost directly in front of her with his hands crossed over his chest.

Mary looked to him. Her eyes were rimmed with tears but Matthew couldn't help but to be touched seeing her in such a natural state. She wore one of his jumpers and her body swam in the cotton material making her legs look all the more thin as they curled up beneath her. "Not the wedding, Matthew! Sod the wedding! Our lives!"

"Whoaaa," he sang, still giving a small laugh. He was before her now, kneeling so the two were on the same level. She frustratedly wiped at a tear before looking back to him. "Love...how would—" He sighed. Finally he did move to sit beside her on the bed but not until after he'd moved the laundry basket. "If he comes early, he comes early. So what?"

"Then everyone knows!"

"That we have sex? Wow, Mary! What a concept! We'd be the first people to ever do that before marriage. We'd be outcasts…"

Mary chuckled, bringing with it a tap to Matthew's chest. Both smiled at one another and when Matthew saw that Mary's hysteria had left, he kissed her temple. "I'm sorry, love, but I just don't see it as a big deal. My mother won't care and…" His voice trailed off, urged by the look Mary gave him as she waited for his next statement. "Your parents would learn to live with it, right?"

"It just doesn't look great for my father. He has an image and I can't go ruining that. I mean, we graduated from Cambridge! 'Here's the Vice Chancellor and here's his unruly daughter and her bastard son!'"

"Mary!" Matthew gave, still with mirth. "It's not like we're having the kid while we're students. We've gone on and made names for ourselves and we have this life together now…"

She laughed too, her mouth coiling into a smirk thereafter in acknowledgement of what she'd done. "I just don't want him to be disappointed."

"He loves you, Mary. He won't be disappointed, alright?"

She nodded her head. In any other world, Mary would not allow herself to act like this. But this world, the world her and Matthew had created and would soon share with their son, was one where she was completely free to be herself. It was a foreign concept, one not fully allowed until after she'd moved to London.

"We've been dating for...what? Nine years?"

"And we've been sleeping together for longer," Mary gave in agreement, all with another honest giggle.

"Marriage isn't what it used to be. I mean...I'm excited for this wedding because I want you to be my wife. I like what that stands for but honestly you are those things to me even without a piece of paper or without a ring. You're still my best friend, love. You're still the person I need and want to spend the rest of my life with...and you're still going to be the best Mum to our little boy whether we're married or not."

Mary turned to her fiance and gave him a bright smile. "Thanks, darling."

Matthew nodded and then grabbed her cheeks to give her a kiss. "Of course. Now!" he bounded up, returning to his original objective. "Food…"

~!~

"So Mary and Matthew, huh?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"Yeah, it does actually. He treated her like shit."

"And she forgave him. They were young."

 _We were young too_ , Tom thought. "Did your parents ever know?"

"What? That Matthew was a shitbag? As if," Sybil scoffed.

"They're getting married, right?"

Sybil looked to him. Tom soon explained. "It's in the papers, you know. I guess I didn't realize how well known your family was. I mean...is this going to be in the papers tomorrow?" he asked, pointed to the crowded after hours establishment.

Sybil smirked. "No. Mary's made a name for herself without my parents' help and Matthew's taken on all of these high-profile cases since moving to London. That's their life...not mine. Not ours, really," Sybil gave with a small laugh, her eyes refusing to grace his.

"You were in the paper," Tom pointed out. When Sybil remained silent, he paused, calculating how it was she wished for him to continue — if at all. "When you graduated from Harvard," he explained. Again it was quiet so Tom sat forward. "Did you not know?"

"No, I didn't know."

"Well you were there when you were accepted…" His voice was slow but when Sybil looked to him he felt her asking for him to continue. "And then again when you got into medical school…" Now her eyes begged causing Tom's voice to flow as he revealed the last bit of information. "And then when you graduated with honors. Your dad commented...I mean, there was a quote from his office in there."

"Yeah, I had no idea…" Sybil stated, almost rolling her eyes. "I don't want that life. No, thank you." What she wanted gone was the air of intrigue that swept in when she even considered that it was likely Tom searched for her every now and then — maybe not always in newspapers but on the tube or in restaurants just like this one.

"If you're as badass as everyone says, you'll be in medical textbooks someday. That kind of makes you famous, no?"

"I don't know why you think I'm so amazing."

"Because everyone, especially Frye who is currently the best doctor in his field, says so."

"I thought he just had a crush on me?"

"He might," Tom shrugged. "But he also knows talent when he sees it. I'm trusting the bloke to cut me open so I think I'll trust him when he says how feckin' brilliant you are."

"I'm hardly…" Sybil used her free hand to push several curls behind her ear. "Well thank you, I guess. I just...it's my job and I love it but I'm no more special than anyone else. We're a team—"

Tom laughed. "You're shit at taking a compliment."

"Well is it a compliment or are you just stating facts?"

He paused, deciding in an instant to let the issue go. "Whatever you want, Syb."

She could tell he was defeated, just like how she could diagnose every emotion he experienced, even after all these years. "We talk about me a lot and we don't really talk about you," she said softly as if trying to explain her aggression.

"We talk about me some. I'm not as interesting as you are."

"Sure you are. You're doing what you love just like I am."

"I'm teaching. I'm repeating information that's not mine." Tom didn't say what it was Sybil was doing. The absence of those words showed her profession was filled with opportunities to do the very opposite.

"Yeah but it's information you're passionate about. It gave you purpose and the hope is that it'll help others too, no?"

Tom chortled at her optimism. "Well that's the hope. The execution isn't always that successful. Lately I feel like it's downright poor…"

"Are you not happy then? If you're not you should do something else."

"No," Tom shook off after sipping at his coffee. "I'm happy. I have a pretty awesome job at a pretty great university." Then: "I really don't know what else I'd do."

"Research maybe?"

"On what?"

"Ireland. Modern colonialism. I don't know...everything you've always been really passionate about."

Tom was smiling again and in doing so he was less afraid of the truth he'd soon speak. "Well you're back in my life and once upon a time I was told you were a distraction to my research so I don't know if that's a good idea."

He picked up his cup again, mostly to distract his mouth and hide the grin he still wore. Sybil's lips curled upward as well, their shared moment existing without noise but lacking any and all awkwardness. Both acknowledged the change in their ability to make references toward the past. For all the pain that existed there, before their break up the two experienced only multiple states of euphoria. Tom didn't lie; he was happy now but he also knew he was happier then and in seeing Sybil smiling back at him, he secretly wondered (and somehow knew) if this was also true for her.

~!~

"I made a roast—"

Matthew's eyebrows lifted. "A roast?"

"I'm practicing," she defended, practically threatening him against pushing the issue any further. There she was, the woman Matthew had fallen in love with all those years ago: fiery and yet every bit as patient with a task she'd chosen to dedicate her time to. So far she had conquered every challenge impending motherhood had placed before her.

When Matthew turned back to the kitchen, Mary began to follow. "There's salad too. That one you like with the strawberries and the feta…" Her fiance turned back to her. "You know...it's edible. Just in case the roast isn't."

They were to the bottom of the stairs now. Matthew looked over his shoulder and when he saw Mary was morose again he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder with ease.

"Hey!" she let out. "Baby on board! Be careful!"

As they entered the kitchen he placed her on the counter before beginning to pull the desired items from the fridge. Matthew inspected them in their tupperware. The salad was delicious but the roast looked good too. There were portions missing from both so he could only assume Mary had eaten it thus deeming it edible — literally.

While he heated the roast up Matthew spun to look at her. She was calm again, her long arms holding her body up while she inspected the kitchen. She must have felt his eyes upon her because she began to share a thought. "We have to get this place cleaned before the wedding. These floors are dusty."

He went to her. She could speak a thousand more words and he'd still understand she was miles from being okay. Mary might have been convincing herself of this, but Matthew was far too wise. He often knew what it was she was feeling long before she ever did. It was a habit he had picked up back in university when Mary would roll away from him after the two had sex. When he grabbed her back once he felt all of her soften into him as if she had been asking for that very thing all along. Matthew heard all of the things Mary was too afraid to say, sometimes far too loudly.

"Love, what is it?"

"The floors, Matthew…"

"Mary, it's not the floors. C'mon now. Just tell me. What did I do?"

Her eyes remained glued to the hardwood below. "You? You didn't do anything, darling."

"Alright then who—"

"I don't know," she shrugged.

Behind them the microwave beeped. While Matthew tended to the appliance Mary took him in, noticing now the rolled up sleeves on his shirt and the way his thin tie was still as starched as it had been when he left for work that morning. As he turned back to her, she gave a shrug. "What if I just don't want to talk about it?"

"Well that's fine then. But if you're going to sulk around here then I don't think that's very fair especially considering it's likely I'll be able to help you out of this funk." He paused. When she still didn't look to him he put his now full plate of food down so he could go to her once more. "Is it the wedding? The baby? What?"

"You're going to get annoyed and I don't want you to be annoyed!"

"Then I won't be annoyed!" he shouted back. The two never raised their voices to one another and when they did it was always like this, a nod toward their younger days when they did everything they could to keep their feelings a secret.

"Sybil…" She sighed out.

"Jesus! Is she pregnant to?"

Mary's eyes turned black and she leaned back as if to question Matthew's entire being just based on what he had said. "Well I hope not! What have you heard?"

"Not a thing! I just—"

"She's doing it again, Matthew. She's lying to me."

"Mary, you're not her mother…"

"No, but I'm her sister and that has always meant more for us!"

"I'm…why is she lying? How do you know she's lying?"

"She's seeing Tom. I know she is."

"Mary, she…" Matthew sighed out. It was his turn to look to the floor. "How do you know that?"

"How do you not know that? It's obvious! Or _do_ you know that? Is that why you're being so weird?"

"I'm being so weird because every time you talk about how much you hate Tom I'm reminded of the fact that you just forgave me and we never really talked about it and…" He was sputtering, his mouth like a car coming to a slow stop after the engine had given out.

"Matthew, there was nothing to talk about, I…" She hopped down off the counter. "What is this? That has...that has nothing to do with any of this."

"Have we moved past it then?"

"Of course we've moved past it!" Mary bellowed, mostly in disbelief. "You're about to be my husband and the father of my child. I'd say we're very, _very_ past it, darling."

"Then why do you hate him? Sybil doesn't hate me."

"You didn't—"

"I know how you felt, Mary. I know how I made you feel," he stated with conviction. "Tom honestly thought he was doing the right thing. I knew I wasn't and I did it anyway and in the end it made me hate myself even more."

"Matthew, seriously…"

"We don't have to talk about it then. You're right! I'll just let you—"

"Well no!" she shouted back. "We are going to talk about it because we already are! You opened this can of worms and now you're going to help me get rid of them!"

Matthew chuckled. He rubbed at his eyes, wondering how he could make all of this go away. "Love, I just...it still bothers me and it always has and we're getting married and after this I'd like to never talk about it again but you know now so—"

"Well I don't like that my fiance feels like a gobshite because of me! And I don't like that it's taken us this long to air all of this out!"

"Yeah well the only reason I felt like a gobshite...feel like a gobshite," he corrected, "is because I fucked up and you just let me. But it was a choice I made and—"

"I thought I just let you?"

"You do stupid things when you're in love, Mary! What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to say that you've left all of that in the past. We were young, Matthew. I slept with you that first night and then I did it every night after that. That was my choice even when you made it clear that you didn't want to date me."

"Yeah but you can't choose who you love, Mary. That wasn't your fault. I did love you. I loved you then almost as much as I love you now but you terrified me. You were this...this presence," he settled, "and I wasn't used to girls like you. You talked back and you were driven and your dad was the Vice Chancellor of my university."

"Do you…" Mary stepped into him once more, now seemingly breathless. "What? Did you honestly think that?" Then, once more: "How have we not discussed this until now?"

"Because you never want to!" Matthew returned. "And I don't either. I did shitty things and I spread some pretty nasty rumors and people thought things about you—"

"And you still slept with me," she reminded, causing both of them to share knowing smirks.

"You were on my level, I guess. You weren't perfect anymore."

"And what? You slept with those others girls because…"

"I don't know. To distract myself. Why else?"

"I just thought you liked sex."

"I liked sex plenty. Still do," Matthew admitted without apology. "But I liked it best with you and I could have had it with you, all the time, if I had just kept my mouth shut and taken a chance. But I didn't and I only know that now." There was a beat of silence before he continued. "Just like I'm sure Tom wishes he could take it all back. You only know how much of an arse you are after the fact. Somehow all of it makes a lot of sense at the time. Maybe he was...maybe he was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"How awesome Sybil is? I don't know! Women are scary! Is this new to you?"

"Yes!" Mary screeched. "As girls we're brought up to think men are the scary ones…"

"Well sometimes you lot are bloody terrifying."

"Sybil's hardly terrifying, darling," Mary brushed off with slight amusement. "Me, sure...I'll accept that and I'll even take that as a compliment but Sybil? She's the opposite of terrifying."

"Well the group of men that aren't scary seem to be the ones who are scared to have their hearts broken."

"And how was Sybil going to break his heart?"

"I don't know, Mary! I don't know specifics because neither of them liked me much back then. What I do know is how much it sucked for me. I know the agony I felt and I remember the relief when you forgave me. And then when you let me be your friend again and then we started dating and...it was unreal. I'm not saying Tom's going to get all of that. Honestly, I love Sybil and most of me really hopes she is smarter than that. But I do hope she forgives him...for her sake too. She needs to move on. She can't...if that's what she wants, you know, to spend the rest of her life alone then fine but—"

"But that's not what she wants?"

"Well of course not."

"I know that, Matthew, but what am I meant to do?"

"Be nice to her. I mean...she's lying to you because—"

"So she is lying to me?"

"I don't know, Mary! Christ! But you seem to think she is so…"

Mary 's cheeks puffed, making her look like a little girl who knew exactly what she had just done. Sometimes she was impulsive and other times she just liked Matthew's reaction when she pretended to be.

Matthew sighed out so he could continue. "If she's lying she's doing it because she's afraid of what you're going to say. I mean, did you tell her everything when you started talking to me again?"

Mary looked away. "No…"

"Did she...did she even know?"

"Of course she did. But Sybil...she only knows how to be supportive."

"Yeah well you're both cut from the same cloth. I...I get why you're upset. I'm protective of her too but you kind of have to take a step back here and let it happen. If she hasn't opened up to you yet then she's not going to start if you start accusing her or telling her what she's doing wrong. It's likely she knows what she's doing wrong but Sybil's smart so there has to be a reason she's still doing it."

"I don't...I want her to be happy, Matthew. That is all she ever wanted for me so I want that for her."

"Well maybe—"

"I know," Mary nodded. "I know. I just don't want to hear it."

Matthew stepped forward and cupped Mary's cheeks. All of her melted into him, her arms floating away from her body toward his while her eyes fluttered shut. He placed a strong kiss to her forehead, another to her nose, and then finally one to her lips. The last had them both breathing in, needing oxygen so they wouldn't have to detach. When they did, Mary was back again and Matthew couldn't help but to smile. "Let's get you in bed, yeah?"

~!~

As their plates were cleared and then subsequently taken away by their waitress, Tom grabbed for the check to observe the amount. Sybil instantly offered to pay but Tom ignored her. When she tried again he handed her the check but in seeing her dwindling insistence he took it in his hands once more, already fishing his wallet from his back pocket. While the two stood up and slipped into their coats, Tom continued to laugh and Sybil, who said nothing, wore cheeks as bright as her red scarf.

They were altogether quiet on their walk back to the tube. Sybil wondered if Tom would take the same train but she soon found this was not the case when he paused at the top of the staircase for the downtown lines. "So do we act like this didn't happen?"

It was an unspoken rule and to hear it aloud had both realizing how silly all of this seemed. They kept secrets as teenagers but both were long past those years and now felt guilt in still thinking such behavior was acceptable, much less necessary. Still, if it was what Sybil wanted, Tom would comply.

"When?" Sybil inquired.

"Tomorrow."

She shrugged. "It's already tomorrow." Without any change in demeanor, Sybil turned around and walked down toward her train.

~!~

Once inside both began to strip. It was such a routine they sometimes forgot how wonderful it felt to aid one another in removing each layer of clothing. Matthew was slowly reminded, especially as he took Mary in and noticed the minute swell of her stomach as she reached up to toss off his jumper.

He went to her and stilled her hands. They were working to roll down the soft cotton of her leggings and Matthew's fingers performed the function instead, all of him pushing the fabric off so it pooled at her feet on the floor, leaving her naked from the waist down.

It was Mary's turn to disrobe him but all she could manage was a lazy smile that had them both reconnecting at the lips. It was slow and lustful and as the two separated, Matthew returned to undoing his belt. Mary watched, giving in to how tired she was but not enough to surrender to the actual sleep her body craved. When Matthew returned to her, now only in his boxers, Mary sighed out all before letting him push them toward the bed with a searing kiss. When they fell back it was him that caught them and Mary somehow trusted Matthew to hold all of her weight so she could be let down gently. When her back graced the soft sheets below a similar support continued, this time with Matthew's hands running up and down her sides. She moaned, especially as she felt him against her thigh. Hearing her, Matthew pulled away from the kiss but only enough so he could bring her bottom lip with him, softly biting at the plumped skin with his teeth. She laughed and he joined her and soon she was on top, the two rolling around like teenagers, making up for time they weren't even aware they had ever lost.

"You're absolutely stunning, love…" Matthew purred into her neck between kisses, all the while kneading her chest into two soft peaks. His mouth moved downward, taking each nipple into his mouth before returning his attention to her. Soon they were lost in a kiss again with Mary's hands falling off her fiance's shoulders and down to the waistband of his underwear. When her hands dipped below Matthew dropped his head back. It was an action that was further encouraged as she began to stroke him. Though they'd spent their morning in a similar state, Matthew still found himself instinctively bucking into her hands. Mary couldn't help but to smirk, but in remembering the sleep both were craving, he moved toward her and looked down to where they were about to be connected.

Slowly he was inside of her, lifting his weight up off of her using a strong hand placed to the pillow on either side of her head. He couldn't hold this position for long and soon all of him was pressed into her and he felt her moving beneath him while her fingernails dug into the muscles on his back. The pain had Matthew quickening his pace but even through each wave of pleasure he was able to look to her. "You okay?"

"Of course," she nodded quickly. "Please, darling…"

With another several thrusts Mary had tossed her head back onto her pillow. Her mouth was dropped open and she sought out the sheets beneath as her fingers and toes curled. The pressure he was placing on her had each limb electrified, a feeling that only intensified as the two crept closer and closer to their orgasms.

Just steps away Matthew managed to slow down. He pushed back the sweat at her hairline and kissed the skin there. When he finally released he felt her let go too, both panting as they reeled in such an intense feeling.

Matthew sighed out, practically collapsing directly beside Mary but not far enough away so the two disconnected. He kissed her collarbones and then dropped his head to her chest in an action that had them both sharing a laugh.

When it all got quiet again, Mary ran her nails across his scalp. "I love you, Matthew." The moment was officially paused giving both time to exist without word or motion. "Please don't feel any other way than this. Because you are about to be my husband and you're going to be a great Daddy and I'm so lucky to have you in my life. That's for me to decide and I made that choice a long time ago. I love you," she said again.

~!~

On the train back Sybil tossed her phone from one hand to the other. Usually she'd use the time to check Facebook or her email but currently she sat on the edge of her seat, ready to bounce up and exit just as soon as the sliding doors opened to reveal her stop. While all of the underground whooshed past the windows, she sat back once more, accepting defeat. Her eyes were trained on the metal rungs above wondering now what train it was that brought Tom back to his place. Then she began to calculate the distance and held an argument in her head afterward where she decided if she was impressed or disheartened by her memorization of the late night tube schedule.

At her stop she moved much more slowly than she originally had planned. It was chilly and for awhile she thought it even might rain but the exhaustion in her bones did nothing to bring her closer to her flat. Not too long ago her behavior would have been questioned but tonight neither Will nor Gwen were home. Both were out somewhere, undoubtedly taking risks and submitting to the vulnerability Sybil had given up so many years prior.

There was a jealousy in Sybil but not one that ached for that lifestyle. She meant what she'd said to Tom about being happy, though in the silence after when the two ate their food, she wondered to what extent that emotion was being felt. She was happy and she believed that with everything in her but perhaps it was possible for her to be more happy — to feel more and be more.

As she inched closer to her bed Sybil began to disrobe. Her shoes were kicked toward her closet and her jacket was tossed on the back of her desk chair. Her orange tabby cat laid in the center of her bed and picked his head up now as he watched Sybil change into pyjamas. When he saw it was only her he set his head back down, causing Sybil to chuckle. She grabbed for her phone and peeled back her duvet so she could slide underneath. The cat immediately stood, stretching in a rather rigid manner before joining her at the head of the bed. He purred and she rubbed his chin and when he settled beside her Sybil kissed his face.

"Just me," she said aloud. But the feline was already done with her, ready to sleep again now that she was home.

Essentially alone Sybil turned onto her back and groaned up toward her ceiling. The air around her was so still and she felt it now, just how heavy loneliness could be. In a way she was stunned, wondering how she'd never noticed it before. Not a single change had been made since Tom reappeared and she refused to contribute his presence to her current state of doubt.

Just as her hands itched to do on the train Sybil clicked at her phone, causing the screen to light up showing no new text messages. She groaned again, this time using her irritation to turn off the lamp on her nightstand and attempt to go to sleep. As she did she continued to think of Tom, leaving off right where she'd stopped when she departed the train. Surely he was home by now and she wondered if he was out of the shower yet. He always showered before bed and he'd get up in the morning and do it again after his run. Sybil wondered if he stripped in the rather neat way he always had. He'd often made a joke when the two were naked in bed together, commenting on how the only time he didn't mind the mess was when Sybil was the one creating it. For a few years after their break-up Sybil held on to the tidiness he had taught her. Then she returned to her old ways, wanting clothing and textbooks to cover her floor to keep the room feeling more lived-in.

Once more Sybil was on her back. She blinked away the snapshots she saw of Tom, several of the muscles in his back being manipulated as he tossed his shirt into the nearby laundry basket. She also saw the way he rubbed a towel at his head to dry off his hair and the way he'd surely fallen into bed with nothing on. It was this thought she carried with her as she boldly sent him a text.

"No," she typed simply.

The grey bubbles on her screen appeared all too quickly. For a boy who hated texting, Tom was quite accessible. "?" he responded.

"You asked me if I was dating someone. A few days ago," she explained causing Tom to hear her voice through her written words. "The answer is no. I'm not dating anyone."

Tom sighed out. He held his phone out in front of him, his arms extended up in the air undoubtedly making him look rather stupid to anyone who would have walked by had his door been open. "Thank you for clearing that up at 5am," he said. It was the third text he'd tried, the other two deemed inappropriate if he wanted to keep the conversation going.

"Why are you still awake?" she asked.

It seemed Sybil had a similar goal and in seeing her subject change he could only smile. "I think I should be asking you the same thing."

For whatever reason Sybil wanted to tell Tom that she wished she had gone home with him. The more she thought about it, the easier it was to uncover that reason: that was exactly what she wanted - no more, no less.

This was dangerous.

"Do you hate me?" she asked.

"Why would I hate you?"

"Because I'm being a bit difficult."

Tom paused before typing a short response back. "A bit?"

Her explanation came with more force than any of their conversation that night. As he read it Tom could see Sybil reverting to the girl she was at the hospital. The woman he loved was gone now - lost out of fear that others could see just how much she was beginning to let him in. It was likely she didn't want to see it either.

"Because I just want to be friends and I don't know what you want."

Yes, she did and what Sybil received in return was silence. It was his turn to ignore her.

* * *

Halfway through writing this chapter I remembered that the London tube doesn't run all night. Then I made an executive decision to ignore that fact because a) it ruined the plot trajectory and b) that is BANANAS to this New York girl. I just...I can't fathom it so god bless all of you Londoners who put up with that absolute INSANITY.

Sidenote: I don't do this much anymore but this chapter is a nod to the song of the same name by The Coronas. The song I named this fic after is also theirs. Definitely not necessary to check either out but I thought I'd mention it. Even in writing this story I'm so taken aback by how time happens and affects everyone so differently. It's kind of like how Sybil's age was such a big factor in _Crash Into Me_ and now it's something we don't think of at all.

Life's weird…

Thanks for reading!

x. Elle


	11. The Mess I Made

**A/N :** Ya'll (I don't know - I've been in Texas for too long already) can thank AngieMagz for this being posted so soon after the last chapter. She did something I asked and I of course had to return the favor. If it were up to me, I was going to punish you non-reviewers and hold onto this chapter for a verrrrry long time.

* * *

Eighteen minutes separated the Residents from their usual morning meeting with Tom. Knowing this and never quite losing his boyhood inclination to test boundaries, Will convinced Ben to join him on a jaunt to the cafe across the street from the hospital. Though Ben was not typically a rule breaker he found himself also excited when Will suggested these things, mostly because it meant he was included. There was a small part of him that also looked forward to these trips because Sybil typically tagged along.

Being short on time the two boys looked around the cardiology floor like lost children searching for their mother in a grocery store. There was urgency and with it a bit of panic as they spun, hoping to seek out the brunette. Ben's gaze caught upon her, all of her a flash of periwinkle as she opened and shut the drawers of a supply chest in an alcove just beyond the nurse's station. She bent down then stood up rather quickly, causing both boys to wonder what it could be she was looking for that required so little concentration to actually find.

"Sybil?" Will tried as they approached her.

Her body stilled at the sound and she looked to him and forced a small smile. It was only when she realized that Ben was nearby that she straightened out her posture and pushed up at the sleeves of the shirt she wore beneath her scrubs. "Yeah?" she asked, feigning composure.

A grin tugged at the corners of Ben's mouth. "We're getting food, wanna come?"

Sybil shared with them another sweet smile, this time for Ben's benefit. She barely looked to Will, knowing he would have no other option but to forgive her if she were (and she was) being so cold. "No...thank you," she added softly.

"Syb—"

"I'm fine, Will, really!" she beamed with eyes that begged for both of them to walk away.

Will complied, doing so only when he felt how uncomfortable all of this was making Ben. The two scurried off down the hallway, now realizing their encounter with their female colleague had taken up minutes they did not have to waste. As they moved, Ben inquired about Sybil's mood and William used his aversion to the topic as fuel to get them down the stairs and outside in just seconds. William honestly thought it was sweet that Ben still harbored feelings for his best friend, though not sweet enough to believe that the boy was deserving of her time, much less her affection. Somehow he could not come to the same conclusion with Tom.

Upstairs Sybil continued to huff. She'd woken up like this: frazzled and irritated at nothing in particular. She carried with her a weight she couldn't shake like a dull migraine that pounded and pounded without any signs of upcoming ceasement. The longer it carried on the more upset she'd become and now she moved about, hoping her motion would rid her body of some of that stress. Like William and Ben, her time before their meeting was dwindling and she had the oddest feeling that if she saw Tom now, in this state, she might just start to cry.

This was not the case, of course. It wasn't that Tom didn't see her but that he chose not to. In a way he was looking for her, mostly so he could pass by to display his existence and the lack of acknowledgement that came with it.

"Hey!" Sybil jumped up, now stepping out into the hallway to join him. She was such a petite presence and yet it was not just Tom that turned to her. He, like the others, wore wide, shocked eyes. Seeing such a dumb smirk on his face had her kicking shut another drawer and taking a step in his direction, this time with a hand pressed firmly to her hip.

Tom paused and the rest of the hospital continued in time. He looked to her with piqued eyebrows yet his mouth was still. "Ya?"

Sybil's glare intensified. "Yeah?" she asked, throwing his casual greeting back at him with anger on her lips. "I expected a response, you know," she practically spat.

With his hands in his back pockets Tom took a step toward her as well. "You always expect a response. I expect one too."

She leaned back but did not actively work to separate herself from him. "So you do hate me?"

"I don't hate you!" he admonished with a chuckle.

"Do you wish you could?"

The world seemed to hiccup — pausing and taking all of the room's oxygen with it. Tom's breath hitched and he found himself with an answer and an abundance of hesitance to deliver it. "Sometimes," he gave quietly — earnestly.

Sybil swallowed, hard, wondering when it would ever get easier having him this close. Too many years ago it was all she wanted and it seemed both distance and hours had yet to shift that desire. Such a thing was all the more apparent when Tom took a step into her, essentially eradicating the space between them altogether.

"Maybe you could teach me how," he suggested lowly.

His words were gruff and Sybil watched as they left his mouth, all of the air around her now smelling of him. It was the old him, lacking cigarette smoke and false pretense. Tom felt Sybil and saw out of his peripheral the way her chest heaved ever so gently.

"I don't hate you," she tried again. This time it was her _lack_ of verve and volume that had him noticing just how badly she wanted him to believe her.

"What was I supposed to say, Sybil?"

"You were supposed to say you don't have a girlfriend…"

"How would that have been a logical response? You said we were friends and—" Tom stopped himself when he saw Sybil's cheeks turn red. It was not a joke he'd told or a kiss he'd placed to her most sensitive spots that had her cheeks flushing. Instead she was embarrassed, just begging that he play along and not outwardly mention that she had in fact already lost this argument.

"Of course I don't have a girlfriend," he sighed out. The expulsion of energy had Tom leaning back slightly so Sybil bent forward to compensate.

"But we are friends and it's just texting. I just—"

Tom nodded. "Okay, princess."

Whatever delicate game of tug and war the two were playing was over now, with Sybil falling in the symbolic mud pit the minute Tom dropped the rope and began to walk away. The meters he put between them caused Sybil's shoulders to drop in defeat.

"Hey!" she stepped out again, this time with even more spark. Instead of on her hips, her arms were outstretched now as if to invite everyone on the floor into another one of their spats. "That's not fair!" she screeched. "That's what we're doing, right?"

Tom looked away. It was a habit he had when thinking of the most tactful way to deliver bad news. This was an attempt at calming down, a symbolic biting of his tongue. Sybil half expected for him to walk away completely but was happily surprised when he did not. In fact, he brought himself closer, even closer than they had been before, closing a gap Sybil was already creating plans to conquer.

"Do you truly believe that?" he asked with narrowing eyes. His face was too close. Sybil nodded, prominently, testing if her lips would brush his if she leaned in ever so slightly.

They didn't.

"I don't know what this is and I am doing my best to respect you but if it makes you feel any better, I do want to hate you," he admitted. These words were difficult but he cared about Sybil far too much to take his eyes off of her. "This would make all of this a hell of a lot easier. But I don't. At all. Not even slightly. I wish all of this made me resentful but it doesn't. I just want to show you I'm not a horrible person and I just don't know if anything I can do will prove that but I'm going to try and I wish I could stop but I can't." He inhaled sharply before quickly continuing, his voice sounding like it'd just reached the top of a hill and was now ready to let gravity take him all the way back down. "So regardless of what you think...if I had a girlfriend, I don't think she'd like that I talk to you so much."

"I know you're not a horrible person…"

"Alright."

"I wish I could hate you too," she followed almost immediately.

"You do hate me," Tom countered with a nervous laugh. It was this truth that had him looking away but Sybil's response brought him quickly back.

"I really don't…"

"I wish you did," he countered with just as much speed.

Sybil nodded; it was a fact she'd accepted a long time ago. "I know," she agreed.

Their lungs contracted together, with eyes that darted from lips to eyes and then back again. Both knew that if it weren't for their audience, they would have kissed.

~!~

It took everything in Dr. Frye not to pull Sybil aside after that morning's meeting. It was another where Sybil and Tom kept giving one another awkward and shy glances similar to those they shared during the meeting that reunited them almost two months ago. He didn't want to embarrass her or maybe he didn't want to admit that a girl he believed in so wholeheartedly was thoughtless enough to do anything that could hurt her future.

After the meeting Sybil exited quickly. This also could have been the reason why Dr. Frye didn't ask to speak to her. It was likely she was familiar with the line she toed and didn't want him to bring any attention to something she was also working to ignore.

This time Will didn't think to look around for Sybil. He knew she still needed space and in standing without her, he noticed that maybe he did as well. He carried this thought with him down the stairs once more and out into the sunshine. It was a day not afforded to him often, as it was his luck for sunny days to be spent sleeping off a night shift or getting ready to start one. Because of this he didn't really question why his feet once again brought him to the cafe across the street. He needed the caffeine and he had spent all thirty minutes of their meeting thinking about the scone he'd passed up beforehand. William was honestly so exhausted he didn't remember much beyond the image he held in his head of the orange-cranberry confection.

As he opened the door to the cafe he was surprised to find it was not as crowded or as noisy as it had been just an hour before. This allowed him to approach the counter with ease and order his coffee which he then brought over to the nearby condiment cart. As he ripped open a single packet of sugar and watched the granules fall down, he felt a shadow slip into the space beside him. He was ready to step aside but stopped when he saw not a stranger, but Tom. Though the Irish boy didn't look as forlorn as Sybil had, he certainly lacked most of his usual arrogant air.

"Hey," Tom tried nervously.

William nodded. "I don't like you." The words were delivered effortlessly and William leaned back as if also surprised by their sound.

Tom chuckled. "Alright then." William thought the conversation was over but when he didn't move, Tom continued. All the while Tom's concentration remained on the drink he was preparing. "You're a pretty good actor…"

"I don't want to upset Sybil," William explained.

Tom chuckled and finally turned to him. "Why would that bother Sybil?"

"She likes everyone to get along...are you two friends now?"

Tom smirked out from behind the coffee cup he'd just sipped at. "I'm not going to take her from you."

"Oh, I know that," William said confidently, all while feeling anything but. "I'm just asking if you're friends."

Tom laughed over his shoulder as if to stifle a cough. "If that's...I don't know what to call it."

"I don't like that answer," William bit back.

"Well I don't know what she's told you."

"Everything," Will confirmed — lying.

"Fair enough. Well I don't know you and it seems you know a lot about me. Or you think you know a lot about me. And I'm sorry you don't like me—"

"Why?"

Once again Tom was grinning and William found himself both annoyed and besotted by his smile. "I don't want to upset Sybil," Tom quipped.

"You're not funny…"

Tom shrugged. "I don't know you," he reminded. "But if Sybil likes you, I can't imagine you'd be that horrible." He headed for the door now, practically using Williams's criticism as a subtle goodbye. Realistically though, he had a class to get to and his hands had been itching to check his phone this entire time, all in hopes of hearing from Sybil.

Will was silent. Although Tom was joking before, he really wanted to give him back the same sentiment. Instead, he said nothing.

"It's okay," Tom laughs. "I get it. I'll see you around, Will."

William just watched him go, so perplexed he didn't even think to correct Tom when he called him by a nickname only afforded to Sybil and his immediate family. By the time Tom reached the door he was already working to rid his mind of the interaction. He was forced to do this now when it seemed there was little left in the world to build him up anymore.

When he finally reached for his phone he saw the device showed nothing but the time. Tom spent his entire tube ride berating himself, wondering why in the world he thought she'd reach out to him so soon after their fallout — if at all. He was so consumed by this he didn't even think to be disappointed in the lost opportunity he'd just had with William. For the past month or so he'd resisted the urge to reach out to Sybil's best friend and truly introduce himself. The thought that William would be perceptive to such an offer was about as fanciful as thinking Sybil were currently pausing over a phone screen marked by his name at the top.

~!~

If Mary hadn't texted Sybil that morning it was almost guaranteed that the youngest Crawley girl would have forgotten to pack a change of clothes. The two were meeting for a cake tasting and Mary insisted, several times, that Sybil not arrive in her scrubs. Never one to disappoint her sister, Sybil complied. Even so, she couldn't help the fact that she was barefaced and her hair was beginning to frizz around her ears in early anticipation of that afternoon's rainstorm.

Still Mary smiled, finding that any effort put forth by her baby sister was meaningful when she was always so tired. Soon, Mary hoped, Sybil would be a surgeon and her hours, while demanding, would be her own to choose. Mary wanted for Sybil all of the things she had for herself: a loving partner, a beautiful home, a great career and soon, children.

When Sybil sat down she did so with a sigh. In her new attire she did her best to leave all of the hospital behind but it seemed Tom was never too far from her mind. Though she didn't want to text him, she spent all of her cab ride getting here checking to see if he had texted her. Void of messages, Sybil placed her phone down on the table and smiled sweetly at the waiter who offered her a cup of tea.

"Where do we start?"

Mary, who had recently picked up the menu, now looked over the piece of paper toward a preoccupied Sybil. "Well we start with 'hello' and then sometimes it's polite to ask one another how our days have been or if we have plans for the evening…"

Sybil's shoulders dropped as if to ask her sister for forgiveness. "I'm sorry, I'm just...this operation," she settled, not wanting to add much else to it out of fear of revealing too many truths. "And I've been looking forward to this date all week and now I'm honestly not very hungry…"

"Well I'm starved. I skipped breakfast for this."

"You shouldn't do that, Mary," Sybil warned in the way doctors do even when giving simple advice. "You know, with the—"

"Shhh," Mary tried with wide, pleading eyes. "People could hear."

"Mary, people can do math! Who cares?"

"I care!" she whispered back.

Sybil looked away. Her attention was also diverted to the menu, though out of the corner of her eye she glanced to her phone once more. "Didn't seem like you cared too much two months ago…"

"Oh, don't be jealous!"

Sybil dropped her menu. "Of you and Matthew? Gross." Soon she was engrossed in the culinary literature again.

Mary paused. "Oh god…" Then she leaned in, holding her menu to her chest as if it kept her protected from Sybil's secrets. "You did it, didn't you?"

Sybil paused too, adding to her confusion a very dramatic look around the room like she were searching for the evidence Mary seemed to believe she had found. "Did what?"

"You slept with Tom!" Mary accused.

Sybil leaned back, staring at the space between them in disdain. "Excuse me? I did no such thing!"

"Well something's up then," Mary gave, now sitting back in her chair. She was not one to admit she was wrong so she persevered in hopes of soon being right. There was a casual demeanor added to her task, mostly in hopes of covering up the slight embarrassment she was feeling at sounding so irrational. Is this how she seemed to Matthew lately: unstable and unsure, constantly flailing in the dark searching for anything concrete to hold onto amongst their ever changing wedding plans and unexpected pregnancy.

"Mary, calm down. I didn't...I didn't sleep with Tom and nothing's going on."

"Are you seeing him?" she threw back quickly.

"Only as much as Will and Ben are. Every morning." When the answer was deemed insufficient, Sybil continued. This time her words were delivered down toward the cream linen tablecloth. "Sometimes he comes to visit me on the way to work."

"At your flat?"

"No! Why would he come to my flat? At the hospital...before our meetings," Sybil explained.

Mary rolled her eyes. "That's creepy."

"You only think it's creepy because you don't like him."

"Do you blame me?"

"Well you never really liked him, so no."

"And that's it?" Mary inquired. "That's the only time you see him?"

"Well…"

"Sybil!"

"Shhhh!" Sybil tried, dismissing her sister's criticism in the same way Mary had hushed her sister's nod toward her pregnancy. When the moment was silent, Sybil continued. "We got food the other night…"

"Food?"

"Fry up." Then: "At 3AM."

"Why so late?"

"Because we couldn't sleep," Sybil shared casually and with a shrug.

"We?"

"We…" Sybil's body deflated once more. "I gave him my number and we text sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Yes, sometimes."

"Give me your phone," Mary demanded while extending her hand.

Sybil grabbed for the item and held it close to her chest. "No!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's my phone!"

"Do you have something to hide?"

"No!" Sybil disregarded in a high-pitched tone.

"Then give me your phone!"

"You don't know my passcode!" Sybil tried as she handed the device over.

"Yes I do," Mary stated simply, rolling her eyes yet again. This was true, or at least partially so. Mary knew Sybil's passcode; what she didn't know was that the four digits she typed with her thumb were the month and day of Tom's birthday.

"Sybil!" Mary shrieked. "He's your first text!"

Sybil paused, wondering how that could have been. Had she not reached out to anyone else since their argument? "Don't open those!"

"I wouldn't punish myself like that," Mary gave lowly, now scrolling through her sister's phone to look at her other conversations. "Trust me," she added, almost condescendingly.

Sybil's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't want me to read them anyway so why do you care?" Mary taunted back. "And stop being so defensive. It doesn't look good on you. What happened to the girl who didn't care?"

Sybil sighed. "I don't…" But she did know and she did care and for a moment she had confused the two into a well placed lie. "I don't care."

"Mhm." Mary bit down hard on her fork, sliding the spongy cake off the metal and onto her tongue. She and her sister had not seen one another in so long they'd somehow forgotten the intention of their meeting.

"Are you mad at me? We're just talking!"

"Sybil, that's what you said before!"

"Before? When I was sixteen?" Though Sybil was doing her best to remain calm, a much more fiery side of her was provoked by this reference to the past. She did care; she cared then just as she cared now.

"I thought age didn't matter…" Mary delivered. Her gaze was turned away from Sybil as she cocked her head to approach yet another piece of cake from a different angle. She certainly wasn't taking the necessary time to enjoy each piece but it kept her mouth from saying things neither wished to confront today.

Sybil's voice fell. "Well there's no need to be cruel."

"Alright," Mary said in agreement. She was looking back to her with piqued eyebrows and a pursed grin. "You're right...I'm sorry. But yes...the first time we did this."

"Are you implying this is the second time?"

"Sybil, you won't tell me what's going on enough for me to have an opinion either way, darling." Somehow Mary had assumed the role of the more mature party, but this time Sybil did not act like she once would have. Soon she was eating cake too, slowly savoring each bite so her mind could catch up and eventually pass her heart in a race neither seemed to be aware they were competing in.

"Well it kind of seems like you have an opinion, Mary."

"Yes, I have the same opinion of Tom I will always have. I don't like him," she stated simply. Even after all these years her inflection did not change. "He's horrible. I don't care what anyone says. I was there to pick up his mess and—"

"His mess? Was I the mess?" Sybil asked, leaning in while her eyes glazed over in both anger and sadness. "Am I the mess now?"

"You were a mess," Mary asserted. She didn't feel bad for doing so either; Sybil was a wreck — devastated and unstable for many months.

Sybil shrugged. "I don't know what to say."

"Darling, there's nothing to say. I just don't like him. I never have and I can't lie and say I do. But I do like you. I love you, actually. You're my baby sister and I'd die for you. I know what you deserve and it's someone with far more to offer than Tom Branson."

~!~

They chose an eight-tier vanilla sponge cake. It was simple, or at least more simple than Sybil imagined it would be — just a soft white frosting with an abundance of florals. It would be baked here in London but assembled in Scotland and as Mary signed the invoice, directing the bill to go to her father's office in Cambridge, Sybil was too busy looking at her phone to notice the amount charged. If she had to guess, the desert would cost almost as much as Mary's wedding dress. Thinking this, the younger Crawley girl snickered wondering if that was a bigger statement on the gown or the dessert.

Outside Sybil rejected Mary's offer of a ride back to work. She lied and said that she preferred to take the tube, when in actuality Sybil was afraid to sit down out of fear that she would surrender to her phone in the process. With her sister gone and the taste of cake now completely off her tongue, Sybil felt nothing but a need to check the electronic. As she walked toward the hospital she swore she felt it vibrate in her pocket but when she made it inside, it was just as empty as it had been. Really, it wasn't that she thought Tom would text but more that she _wished_ he would so she didn't have to admit the task would inevitably be hers to complete.

Sybil made quick work of changing back into her scrubs and then paced out into the hallway only to find that she had several minutes before Will would return from his break. He always spent this shift's offtime in the breakroom on the fourth floor. There were cots in there and somehow Will managed to secure the room all to himself if he arrived at the proper time.

While she waited, Sybil leaned back upon a wall. It was such a habit she didn't realize how silly she must have seemed: practicing adulthood in her white coat while immersing herself in the world beyond her cellphone screen. There was nothing on Facebook, nothing in her email inbox, and still nothing from Tom. That was where she waited now, her thumb hovering over the message bar while she thought of something proper to say. Somehow an apology didn't seem appropriate but it was all she could come up with. Instead, and without any thought, Sybil gave him a different sentiment.

"I was wrong," she typed.

The text floated upward and immediately was marked not only by the time but by the knowledge that Tom had read it. She smirked, wondering if he were waiting just like she was. Or maybe he had his phone sitting idle on his desk and the message would go unnoticed for many hours. With her luck it was possible it would be lost on him altogether.

Sybil wasn't granted any more time to overanalyze the situation. William appeared, carrying with him a carton of apple juice he'd stolen from a nearby food cart. Not letting his stare leaving Sybil's he stabbed at the beverage with a straw and began to sip. She could only laugh, an action that was stifled when William handed the drink her way.

"Will, you really should—"

"It doesn't taste like hospital food if you steal it, Sybil. We've talked about this before…"

Sybil smirked. She thought of the night before and how Tom had made fun of her for indulging in the hospital cafeteria. Honestly, she did it so little but she didn't think to correct him then. She enjoyed the way he poked fun and she prayed he wouldn't hold it against her if he ever found out it weren't true. But of course he wouldn't; it would just be another thing for them to argue over.

Together the two walked. They did this every Thursday so it was easy for Sybil to follow beside William even when her mind was elsewhere. He must have noticed because he merely grinned at her, waiting for the perfect moment to start the conversation he'd played through in his head during his break when he should have been sleeping.

"I saw Tom today…"

Sybil's eyes lit up, pulling her from her reverie as she shifted toward her best friend. "Me too. I saw him this morning…"

"Good or bad?"

Sybil looked up to him. She shrugged before letting her eyes linger back on the tile floors below. "I don't know."

"He's handsome," William grinned. "I'll give you that."

"He's a lot of things," Sybil admitted. Soon she was punishing herself for doing so, dropping her head down into her hands to cover the girlish flush she felt turning her cheeks warm.

William stopped. It was easy for Sybil to follow but she was still surprised when her best friend reached forward, pulling her hands away from her face so he could hold them in his own. "Sybil, from what you've told me you have suffered for so long. It's really not fair that you're suffering again."

"It's not him," she assured. "Really, it's not."

They were walking again, attempting to make everything about this shared moment less serious. "It's always him it seems…"

"Yeah, but…"

"If you didn't know him...if Tom was just some random guy...would you date him?"

"No!" Sybil gave quickly.

"Why not?" William threw back, almost as if he was offended by her answer.

"Because he's a patient," she explained simply.

Will looked over his shoulder then back to her. "Alright well say he wasn't. Say he wasn't a patient and you had never met him before. From the time he walked back into your life...would you date him?"

"Yes," Sybil stated. It came just as easily.

"Sybil…"

"I know, alright?"

"I don't know what you think you know because even I don't know…" Will revealed with a chuckle.

"I'm sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"It's not going to work, Will!"

He paused and his forehead creased in confusion. "What's not?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes!" he nodded. "Very serious! I'm not following this at all!"

"No one in my life likes Tom. Even if I were to...try something," she settled, "it wouldn't work."

"So you've thought about this?"

Sybil paused to pout. "God, it's all I think about…" With the truth revealed William's eyes turned wide and Sybil's body mimicked his, quickly working to counter what she was sure he was thinking. "Please don't tell Gwen!"

"Why would I tell Gwen?"

"Because you tell Gwen almost as much as you tell me!"

"If you don't want me to tell her, I won't."

"Good," Sybil accepted with a nod. "Because I don't."

"But they're going to find out eventually, Sybil."

"No one is going to find out because nothing is going on!"

"Do you really believe that?" William's voice was so calm — a sharp contrast to Sybil's shrieking. The same girl who had fought with a supply cart that morning was clearly still present.

"Yes. I mean...no! There's nothing to believe, Will! It's the truth!"

"What are you afraid of?"

Sybil looked to him. He took her in and the two shared a soft laugh. "Alright," he gave, rolling his eyes to forgive himself for asking such a thoughtless question. "Aside from your clear apprehension out of fear of the past…"

"Gwen and Mary worked really hard, Will. I was horrible and they helped me."

"I doubt you were horrible," William disregarded. "Your horrible is like me on a Monday. A good Monday," he added.

"This is what I was talking about! You weren't there! And I'm so glad you weren't because you never had to see me like that."

"Like what? Sad? People get sad, Sybil."

"I was more than sad. I was devastated. I did what everyone told me not to do and then when it didn't work out, those same people who were watching out for me had to pick up the pieces. They did me a big favor and—"

"Excuse me?"

Sybil paused, genuinely perplexed by his question. "What?"

"A favor?" William tried. "When you love someone, those things aren't favors. It's just what you do. Mary and Gwen love you. Surely you've helped them through some not so great times."

"I was consumed by this, Will…"

"I don't care! I don't like what you're insinuating, Sybil! It's offensive!"

"For them?"

"No, for you!" Then: "And for them! They did those things because they wanted you to be happy. That's all they or me or whoever else wants for you."

"Exactly and I'm happy now."

William's face fell, taking with it all of the hope he had in his best friend. "Sybil...babe...honestly…"

She hadn't really thought about it. Before Tom reappeared she had no need; she was better than she once had been and that seemed happy enough. Her life was good. She lived in a constant state of content with good friends, a nice flat, and a job she loved. Wasn't this happy?

She inhaled sharply. "I'd rather be living in this 'okay' stage for the rest of my life than ever go through that pain again, Will. You don't understand…"

"I lost my father when I was six, Sybil. I understand pain, alright?"

"Okay, that was insensitive and I'm sorry—"

"Sybil...I'm like Mary and Gwen here. I want you to be happy. And Tom is clearly trying. Maybe you should give him another chance."

"A chance?"

"Or look at it this way...give yourself a break. Don't you deserve that?" Sybil was quiet. "Well you do."

"I don't...they all hate him."

"Maybe," William shrugged. "Maybe they have that right. I don't know. But you can't not be with someone because your family doesn't approve. I mean, you're good at what you do Sybil but you need a life outside of this hospital. Then Tom comes along and you're even more motivated and you're sleeping less and you're talking more quickly and you laugh more loudly and it's just ridiculous to watch but I'm happy for you. And this is all during a time where it seems you two still have a lot to discuss. I can't imagine who you'll be when this is all figured out."

Sybil pouted again but forced a smile she couldn't help but to fall into naturally. She wrapped her hand around Will's waist and the two began to walk. "Thanks, Willy...now what happened with Tom?"

It was his turn to appear stoic. "I saw him at the cafe across the street and I told him I didn't like him."

"Will!"

"He didn't seem too phased, Sybil! Besides, I said it was worth considering giving him a second chance. And I said that for you. What I didn't say was that he didn't have to work for it. So make him work for it."

The grip Sybil's teeth had on her lip was slowly released. "What if he retreats? Like gives up and walks away?"

She knew the direction of his response but William shared it with her anyway. _When you love someone, these things aren't favors. It's just what you do._ "Well then you would have your answer, wouldn't you?"

* * *

It occurred to me that some people might think that William is the William from Downton Abbey...to which he is not. I can't believe I didn't think to clear that up until now but honestly that show had, like, eighty million characters so this was bound to happen sooner or later. It doesn't really matter, and I haven't mentioned it outwardly but William is not white...so I can confirm the two are not the same, nor are they similar in character.

So yeah! Thanks for reading, friends!

x. Elle


	12. Best Laid Plans

"I was wrong," Sybil's text read.

It took Tom only moments to respond. "If you were wrong then so was I."

"What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?" He tossed back.

"I should have just asked." Through the phone she felt him growing impatient. "If you had a girlfriend," she continued in another text, explaining.

"Alright."

"And I know she wouldn't be happy." There was another text, showing Tom everything that graced his screen were pure, unfiltered thoughts. "I wouldn't be happy either."

"I wouldn't do that, by the way," Tom assured. "I mean, that was the point of me saying that."

"I know. We dated once, remember?"

There was silence thereafter. Sybil had a surgery to sit in on and Tom had two lectures and office hours to keep. But afterward, just as soon as she had changed out of her scrubs and began to head toward the tube, Sybil thought to text him again. She almost did, and would have, had he not texted her first. He told her how on his way home he'd seen something that reminded him of her. What he didn't tell her was that this happened often, but before today he had yet to act on it. Even so, he was glad he did. Their conversation continued for the next several hours, pausing only when Sybil went to Psycle or Tom showered before bed. When they woke in the morning it carried on again with him wishing her a good day and her returning the favor. It didn't appear to either of them that they'd soon have to exist together beyond the glass of their cellphone screens.

~!~

"Here," Tom said simply, handing Sybil a simple white cup.

She was standing at the nurse's station, all of her weight pressed into the counter she was writing upon. It was likely Tom didn't know that when he texted her this morning to say hello she had already been at the hospital for two hours. For Sybil, it was nearly lunch time, but that was not the only reason she was perplexed by the beverage.

Even with its cardboard sleeve, Sybil could feel the warmth contained in the travel cup. She looked to the spout and squinted. "What is it?"

Tom grinned. "Tea. Is that okay?"

She didn't answer his question but instead gave one of her own. "Are you poisoning me?"

He couldn't help but to continue to smile. Already this was much more civil than either were used to being. "Wouldn't I have done that before?" Sybil was glaring at him, causing Tom to avert his eyes out of embarrassment. "Hardly," he settled.

"You can't…you can't bring me drinks, Tom…" Sybil stated calmly. She felt just as uncomfortable delivering the news as she knew Tom would feel upon receiving it.

"But I can leave them in the breakroom? Do you want me to go back to that?"

She stepped into him. "Tom…"

"And drinks? It's a cuppa. I should have brought you a muffin. Or a protein bar. Something of substance…"

"I don't know if you know but people are talking and…" Her voice stilled to a whisper. "I don't want either of us getting in trouble."

"Trouble?"

"We can't...I don't...I don't want anyone getting any ideas."

"Oh, how awful that would be," Tom joked. But then: "You don't want them getting any ideas or you don't want me getting any ideas?"

"I don't know what that means…"

"You're not a great liar, Syb…"

"I'm not lying," she assured. "And you don't know me."

He chuckled. "I do know you, actually. What you mean is that you don't want me to know you."

Sybil swallowed. "That too."

To avoid him further, Sybil took a sip of her tea. It was just as she liked it: not too light and with a single packet of raw sugar. Tasting its perfection Sybil looked to him as if to ask how he knew. Her answer was delivered shortly thereafter when William passed, both men giving one another a slight nod in acknowledgement. Sybil could only smile; the tea was delicious and she was grateful for the gift. Had she told him that yet?

It seemed Tom didn't need an answer, or rather, he had one with her sipping at the drink before him, not daring to walk away. "Fry up tonight?"

"I'm working the late shift," Sybil explained emotionlessly.

"Perfect!" Tom beamed. "We can get some when you get out."

"Tom, we...we can't…"

"What? Be friends?" he inquired with just as much motivation. "That's what this is? Right?"

Those were her own words and she wondered if they hurt him the way they were currently hurting her. "I'll...can we get fry up tomorrow?"

Tom smirked. The issue wasn't them, it was the date, and Tom was pleased with himself to hear this was the case. In a way, he was quite proud of her too. "Are you working the late shift?"

"No. I work two shifts today and then I have tomorrow off."

"Perfect. Then let me make you dinner."

Sybil's eyes narrowed. "Where?"

"My flat. Where the fuck else?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea…"

"I know you love to eat, so that's not it…"

"Emilee will be there, no?"

"I mean, maybe," Tom shrugged. It was only when he moved that he saw how close the two remained and how because of this their voices, while animated, had been brought down to a whisper.

"She's not too fond of me."

"Most days she's not too fond of me either," Tom said with a breathy laugh.

Coming off of a sip of tea, Sybil's lips pursed at the sweetness of her drink and her nose scrunched upward. "That's reassuring."

"Well there's a chance she won't be home. There's also a strong possibility that I pay the rent and can therefore do what I want."

"I'll...sure."

Tom paused. He wasn't expecting an answer so quickly, if at all. He swallowed too and with eyes that dilated due to his nervousness dissipating to excitement, he could only nod. "So you'll come?"

"Maybe," Sybil shrugged now, causing both to smile at one another and then look away when the intensity of such a simple action had them both feeling breathless. "What are we having?"

"Taco Tuesdays, Syb! What else?"

Sybil giggle. "Ahhh, yes. Taco Tuesdays. I see old habits die hard."

All at once Tom's confidence was back and his eyes looked her up and down, taking all of her in. "Some of them." Sybil somehow managed to exist without melting underneath his gaze. Actually, she was quite enjoying the warmth his eyes gave.

"Do you want me to pick you up at your flat?" he asked, changing the topic.

"And then walk with me back to your flat?"

"I'll be leaving work, actually…" Tom explained.

"You don't know where I live."

"Yes, I do," Tom gave with a strong smile. "Will told me."

"He what?"

"Well he told me where he lived and then he mentioned that you two live together so…"

"That arse!"

Tom chuckled. "I'm not going to murder you. My heart needs you, remember?" Sybil rolled her eyes. "It's the truth!" he said with another laugh. When she didn't cave, Tom's tone changed. "But after my operation...all bets are off."

This finally had Sybil cracking a smile. Out of nervousness (and enjoyment) she had done nothing but sip at her tea and now the drink was dwindled to practically nothing. She had nothing to hide behind, and already the entire cardiology wing had watched the two interact. Any secrets she wished to keep from them or Tom were lost by now anyway.

"Great. Do we have to stop at the market?" she asked.

"Nope. Doing that tonight. Was going to ask what wine you wanted…"

"Wine and tacos? Is that a thing?"

He was laughing again. Really, Tom wasn't sure when it was he had breathed — he certainly hadn't stopped smiling. "Ale then?"

"Definitely ale. Just get whatever."

"Really? I was certain you would have turned down my offer of alcohol…"

"I'm not going to let you get me drunk, if that's what you're insinuating."

"Never!"

"You're not funny!" Sybil dismissed, all with a wide grin. Her lips were curved upward, bringing her cheeks, now flushed, to the highest point on her face. Similarly the two were still standing close and with Sybil's tea set down, Sybil found herself leaning in further.

"To most people I'm not but you think I'm hilarious."

"That statement is hilarious," she gave, causing Tom to chortle.

Her actions had his hands stuffed into his pockets. He worried that if she got any closer he'd have no choice but to place his hand on her side in the way he wanted. If she didn't move, his other hand would snake to her neck, bringing her lips to his in a slow, fiery connection. He thought of it often and was thinking of it now with eyes that stared off into space picturing the way she'd move against him.

"Grand!" he clapped, bringing himself out of his own reverie. When he returned to reality, Sybil was still standing before him. "Well I'm going to let you get to it. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Sybil nodded.

"And I'll talk to you tonight?"

She bit her lip now too. Like Tom her hands were crossed over her chest, resisting their urge to reach up and rest on his chest. She could have, if she truly wanted to. The wing was suddenly empty and in their loneliness, Sybil felt a chill of air brush by, coaxing him toward her. With everyone gone it was easy for her to give him her answer, this time with noise. "Of course."

~!~

Sybil had only ever seen this in movies - her, a pretty girl by most standards, examining herself in a full-length mirror as she held up different outfit choices to find the best fit. She never did this with Tom before. Usually she was in her school uniform or athletic gear because they had gone running or were about to. Or her favorite clothing option was none at all and she thought about that a lot lately, especially as the warmer months were beginning to creep in and Tom stopped wearing his waistcoats and began to roll his sleeves.

She didn't know why she cared. Perhaps if she was confident in what she was wearing, she could worry about other things, mostly the words she wished to give to him tonight. Sybil didn't want it to be anything more than a conversation and she hoped it would occur naturally but if it were anything like her current situation, that was seeming more and more doubtful the closer the clock ticked to seven.

Finally Sybil settled on a simple cotton dress and loose cardigan. She also made the conscious decision to wear tights and boots, hoping the less skin she showed the harder it would be for Tom to imagine her the way she was always imagining him. Even as she settled into the fabric Sybil continued examining herself. She had put on some eye makeup and her hair was braided at the crown and pinned up in the back. Was this too much? Did she care?

No. Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes…

"Sybil?"

The brunette nearly jumped at the sound of her name being called. It was strange she didn't see Gwen walk by and she made no effort of hiding this when she turned to her best friend with her mouth dropped open.

"Whoa!" Gwen beamed. "Where are you going?"

Sybil rolled her lips inward. "What? Nowhere!"

"Do you have a date?"

"I definitely do not have a date…"

"William!" Gwen called, turning around shouting into the hallway to do so. "C'mere! Sybil has a date!"

The boy came running. "What?" He used Gwen's frame and the frame to Sybil's bedroom door to stop his motion. When he saw Sybil, her eyes wide, begging him for help, he did nothing but let his face fall. "Oh." His voice diminished to nothing.

Gwen, previously lively, turned to him then back to Sybil and let out an _Oh_ of her own. "What's going on guys?"

"Nothing's going on…" Sybil stammered.

"Sybil…" Gwen tried again. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Gwen!" She practically threw her hands down like a child. It was difficult enough navigating her feelings toward her new relationship with Tom without doing so under the scrutiny of friends.

"Why are you lying?"

"I'm not lying!" she tried again.

Gwen took a step into Sybil's room but remained distanced from her best friend with arms that crossed stiffly over her chest. "So you're getting dressed up for a stroll?"

"Can't I just go out by myself?"

"You can, but that's not what this is."

"It's nothing…" Sybil assured.

"Nothing and yet William clearly knows about it."

"He doesn't know anything. There's nothing to know!"

"He seems to know something."

William looked between the two women. "I'm standing right here…"

"Well this is offensive," Gwen deadpanned. As she did, she turned for the door but was stopped by Sybil moving toward her.

"Gwen! Stop, alright! I'm...I'm going to Tom's to have dinner."

Gwen's voice dropped in both volume and pitch. "Tom's?" It was a mixture of confusion and disdain and Sybil couldn't tell which was more unsettling.

"He's going to be by soon and we're just going to take the tube and he's making tacos and I'll be home tonight. Promise."

Gwen let out a gentle sigh. Her arms fell but her body remained facing the door, showing just where she wished to go. "Why was that so hard? And why does William know and I can't?"

"I don't want you to judge me."

"I'm not judging you, Sybil. I don't understand it and it scares me, but there's no judgement."

"Why does it scare you?"

"It took you awhile to get over him and now he's back and you've invited him back into your life like it's nothing."

"I haven't invited him anywhere," Sybil insisted. "He's pushed his way in."

"And you've let him!" Gwen tossed back. For as relaxed as she was trying to be it was clear she still had a horse in this race. "I mean, clearly. You're going to his place for dinner."

"I'm trying to be friends with him."

"Trying?"

"Yes, trying," Sybil repeated, now with eyes that studied the floor. "Maybe if we're friends…" She expected Gwen to cut her off and when she didn't, Sybil was concerned.

"Maybe what?"

"I'm trying to forgive him," Sybil explained.

"You did forgive him. Or you let it go. Remember?"

"Well this is another step toward that."

There was silence. Sybil and William shared a glance and in doing so, highlighted just how still the room had become. Gwen finally inhaled sharply as if to restart what Sybil was working tirelessly to end. "Holy shit! You...you still love him."

"I don't...no. Stop."

"Sybil…"

"I don't, Gwen!" She said strongly. Then: "This is why I didn't want to tell you!"

"Sybil, I'm sorry, alright? But that's the only way this makes sense."

"That doesn't make sense to me," Sybil stated helplessly. "I'm an adult and he's an adult and we're just getting together to have dinner."

"You haven't just agreed to have dinner with someone since..."

Sybil's eyes narrowed. "Since Tom? Yeah, I know." Gwen was currently walking a fine line between supportive friend and cruel outsider. Then again, maybe that was her fault. Sybil reasoned that if she had been in the red head's shoes, it was likely she wouldn't be too pleased either.

"Sybil...I just don't want you to get hurt, babe."

"I'm not going to get hurt. I'm not in love with him anymore and I'd like for us to be friends. I don't want to die resenting him."

"I just don't know if seeing him like this is going to help that."

"Sure it will. It'll help me to realize that we're better off apart."

"But if you don't believe that, Sybil, then what good is that?"

"But I do believe that," Sybil said simply. She shrugged too, hoping her indifference was perceived as such.

"No, love, you don't. Because if you did, you wouldn't be going."

A rebuttal was lost on all of them, replaced instead by Sybil's phone dinging, signaling she had received a new message. Instead of grabbing for the device, she grabbed her coat and bag off her bed and headed for the door. She didn't bother to turn off the light, inviting Gwen and William to remain in it long after the front door was latched and locked.

Gwen was soft again, shown by the return of the high-born accent she had picked up when she agreed to move to London. With William, Gwen didn't need volume to show just how disappointed she was. Then again, it was more clear now than it had been when Sybil was present. For a moment, just a blink, William thought the girl might cry.

"You encouraged this, didn't you?" She accused as she pointed a finger toward his nose. At the same time she was walking away, heading back into the kitchen to continue making her dinner.

"Excuse me?" William asked, now following.

"You weren't there, William!" Gwen practically shouted. "You didn't see how broken she was!"

"Why does that matter, Gwen? If this is what she wants then let it happen!"

"If I can help her avoid the heartbreak, I will. I should have the first time…" She admonished. William paused, wondering now just what it was Gwen thought of Tom all those years ago. She agreed to keep Sybil's secret, but maybe she had some of her own and they involved a day-to-day fluctuation of resenting Tom while also acknowledging just how happy he made her best friend.

"But you can't, Gwen! None of us can! It doesn't seem Sybil can either. Isn't that clear?"

"No, it's not clear! She's going to his place to have dinner for fuck's sake!"

Gwen was at the counter now, rolling a knife against a cutting board to cut up vegetables. William followed but kept his distance leaning against the kitchen table with his arms crossed over his chest. "First off, you sound pointed and I don't appreciate it. Secondly, I need you to step outside of yourself and see it through her eyes. Imagine some guy who you loved broke your heart. You're devastated and it takes you years to get over him. Your life is awesome and you have so much going for you but you don't date and you practically get offended by guys who even dare to check you out. Then the heartbreak kid comes back onto the scene and you're forgiving. What does that make you?"

"Stupid," Gwen gave simply.

"No, Gwen. I'm sorry but no. That's not Sybil. I know why you want to fight this and I honestly think she does too. I mean, she has. It's been months now...several weeks of her blowing him off. But she's given in just like I think she always knew she would. She can't help but to be attracted to him now if she never really got over it."

"She deserves more than an attraction, William!" Gwen reminded loudly.

"Maybe he's changed," he offered.

"I don't care if he's changed."

"Well can you try? For her?"

"I don't approve of this." Gwen stated strongly, hoping it was for the last time.

"Yeah, well you're not in a position for that to matter. So be just like you were then...supportive. You don't get to steer your friends away from potential happiness and say you're helping them because you want to save yourself the time and effort it takes to get them through the tough times that may follow. You just don't. If they take chances, you do too. That's how friendship works."

~!~

Sybil jolted down the steps. Somehow in the time she had taken to get ready, it had rained and now the London night was nothing but black skies and puddles that caught lights on nearby storefronts. She moved so quickly that her bag slapped at her backside and out of nervousness she held her hands tightly in her pockets, keeping the material close to her body. When she finally stopped she reached for her phone. It was almost as if she didn't want Gwen seeing her reaching for the item so quickly after departing. Then again, Sybil felt that both Gwen and Mary would choose what they wanted to see and there was no sense in attempting to change the lens they wore that cast the entire situation in various shades of doubt.

It actually wasn't a text from Tom, but an email. That didn't stop Sybil from continuing down the road, moving so quickly her feet couldn't manage to get acquainted with the pavement below. She was familiar with Tom's neighborhood and if she had his address it was likely she could get herself to his flat but the plan was that the two would walk together. Not wanting to stop walking but also lacking clear direction, Sybil wondered how silly she would look if she just continued to circle the block until he called.

Sybil couldn't be mad at him; it was not even seven and she remembered how he used to get so lost in his dissertation. She imagined things had changed a bit now that Tom had dedicated himself to the topics he loved and had also managed to make money off of the knowledge he'd acquired back in Cambridge. What Sybil wouldn't accept was that he was any less hard working, no matter how cynical he had become.

"Hey!"

Sybil turned quickly. Without having to look, she knew it was him. His voice always tickled her ear, no matter how close he stood. "Oh, hi!" she sighed out. At the same time she brought her feet to a stop.

As he drew closer, Tom tilted his head and began to smirk. "You okay?"

"What? Yeah, I'm fine."

His smile only grew. "You don't look okay."

Sybil rolled her eyes and the two began to walk. "Ghee, thanks."

Tom sighed out. He previously had his hands stuffed into his pockets but he now removed them so he could press his hand to her back to guide them across the street. "What I meant was 'what's wrong?'"

"Nothing," Sybil said, now shaking her head.

"You know that if you tell me you don't want to talk about it I'll just say 'okay' and we'll move on, right?"

Sybil finally looked to him. "Well then I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, that's f—"

"Gwen's not happy that I'm here," she revealed quite easily.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Here?"

"With you. That soon we're going to be at your flat."

"I didn't know you were a child that needed supervision," Tom quipped.

"I'm…" Sybil's voice trailed off as she began to study the lines on his face. "I'm not. I just—"

"What you're saying is that she doesn't trust you."

Sybil looked to Tom, giving him an intense gaze that begged to be believed in. "I don't think she trusts _you_ ," she said strongly, hoping he understood her meeting.

"What? Am I going to take advantage of you? No Syb, she doesn't trust you to be around me without…"

It was Sybil's turn to be amused. Her features mimicked his, her mouth now grinning and her eyebrows lifting as she watched his mouth, waiting for an answer. "Without what?"

"I don't know." But he did and it didn't take long for him to continue his thought. "She doesn't think that we can be friends."

"No one does."

Tom looked to her. "No one?"

"Mary's not too thrilled about this either."

His eyes widened. "She knows you're here? Man, I didn't know this was that big of a deal. Should I call my friends and tell them our plans? I don't want them to feel left out…"

Sybil could have rolled her eyes but instead she kept her focus toward the ground. "I didn't know you had friends," she jested.

"Ha Ha," he exaggerated. "Very funny."

Sybil looked away again. Already she was enjoying herself too much and already that was terrifying her. "Mary just knows that we're talking and—"

"Ahhh," Tom accepted. "How very Cambridge of us. We're _talking_ , are we?"

"Quite literally, yes," Sybil clarified as if it were necessary. "We're not going to shag."

"Thanks for clearing that up."

"Figured I'd get that out of the way," she continued sarcastically. Again the pair shared mischievous smiles.

They were almost to the tube. Their conversation flowed so naturally Sybil had to take a look around and observe their exact location. She must have trusted Tom to get her there because she moved without any hesitation. As they paid their fare and moved toward the track Sybil gave Tom another small smile.

Tom gave her the same thing in return. The two were standing close but he still noticed the attempt she'd made to look more well-kempt now that they were outside of the hospital. In a way, this was dangerous. She was his doctor and he was her patient and the two should not even be entertaining the idea of existing as anything else — even as friends. Sybil knew this but it didn't stop her from sitting close to Tom when the two entered the train and took a seat.

"You look nice, by the way."

"We're still not going to shag…"

Tom let out a breathy laugh in disbelief. "It seems you're thinking about that far more than I am."

"I doubt it…"

"Well you do," he persevered. "Look nice, that is…"

"Thank you," Sybil gave softly.

"It's nice to know you own clothes other than your scrubs."

"Ugh, I know," she groaned. "They're hardly the most attractive things in my closet. And that damn coat…"

"Well I think you look quite cute in them. I told you that."

"You said fit, actually." Honestly the reminder was more for Sybil's benefit. She thought about his words a lot, especially each morning when she got ready for work.

Tom looked away, his eyes drifting to the ceiling of the train car. "That too."

Sybil smiled but soon her expression fell. "I'm sorry if I was a hag before."

"Hardly a hag. You're allowed to have off days, you know. Off hours and minutes too."

She paused, noticing now how he was particularly clean-shaven and how the collars on his shirt were starched just enough to keep their shape. "You can't forgive me for everything just because I'm so busy trying to do the same for you."

Tom pressed a hand to his stomach and let out a belly laugh. "I'm a little offended that's what you think I'm doing."

"I think that's what I want you to be doing," Sybil admitted honestly. "But I know you're being genuine."

"You know," Tom began, "We do a lot of overthinking."

"Is that a complaint?"

"An observation," he said just as simply.

"You're right," Sybil accepted with a slight nod. "We do."

"I'm going to try not to…" Tom vowed.

"Alright."

He smirked again — he was always so hopelessly amused by her but here even more so when she was so close and the two would soon be alone at his flat. "This is the part where you say you're going to try to."

Sybil turned her neck to look at him. The smile she gave him was a closed-mouth one, but he saw the sentiment behind it, all of it just beyond her lips, not yet mature enough to be released to him. "I've already tried," she explained. "So I guess I'm going to continue to try. Better?"

Tom nodded and sat back on his seat. The repositioning once again found the two close, their fingertips brushing in a way that was almost intimate. "Much."

* * *

Thanks for all the guest reviews! I just wish you'd get usernames so I can respond.

Next chapter is my favorite in the fic so far, if not the entire story. Who's ready?

x. Elle


	13. Hurts Like Hell

When they got off the train the rain had stopped. Tom's neighborhood was far nicer than Sybil's, a fact that stood in sharp contrast to the way things used to be when her family's estate ranked high above Tom's city loft. It still didn't stop Sybil from approaching Tom's current flat in the way she once would have— with wonderment mostly but also with the calm that came with knowing they were moments away from finally being alone.

Upon entry the first thing Sybil took note of was the smell; it was pleasant, mostly a mix of recently dried laundry and the scent of rain the pair brought in with them. The air felt untouched, matching the tidiness of the front hall and the overall theme of the decor that began to reveal itself to her. There was not a single white wall just shades of grey and muted blues and greens. Aside from the living room they passed, there were not as many pictures as Sybil had anticipated. There were, however, flowers on his kitchen table and a large photograph in the nearby dining room of what she could only assume was the Kinsale coast. There were pieces of him everywhere, just in whispers instead of shouts.

"Why are you always like that?" Tom finally asked.

It was the second time that day she had been caught daydreaming. Her mind was seemingly elsewhere lately, usually with him just at a different time in their lives. "Hmm?"

"You get all wide-eyed and silent…"

Back in the present Sybil shared a small smirk in apology and when her embarrassed glance moved from the floor back to him, she gave an answer. "I love seeing the inside of people's houses. It's fascinating. You know this," she reminded.

Tom did. He knew it _too_ well. Though she was nervous when they visited Tom's parents in Ireland, Sybil still managed innocent curiosity. Everything about that week was innocent, even the way the two came together and made love in Dublin. It seemed Tom couldn't help but to live in the past either. He was admittedly happier then, though that's not to say he wasn't feeling something similar now. Out of the hospital and in the company of one another, Tom began to believe that maybe the two hadn't changed that much after all. Maybe this all felt so effortless because they were the still those same people and allowed themselves to be so only when contained behind these four walls. Somehow a situation that boxed them in released both from all the restraints they'd worn for the past several years.

"Alright. Do you want a tour?" Sybil paused, her face unmoving, causing Tom to laugh again. "Okay," he sighed. "Have at it. Go explore you feckin' header…"

Sybil was already in motion, scurrying down the hallway with an energy that showed just how intrigued she was, even now as she passed the same rooms Tom had brought her through before. "Which bedroom is yours?" she called out. Sybil didn't look back to him, but if she had it would have been a pointless task; she was back to the front door now and completely out of Tom's sight.

"Up and to the right," Tom called out. With his words Sybil heard the dull clank of a pan and the crisp sound of a glass bottle being uncapped.

Without him around, Sybil's eyes were able to gaze at other things. Instead of the veins on his arms or the way his henley was unbuttoned, Sybil saw the crucifix on the wall in the living room, and then one again in the foyer and at the top of the stairs. She remembered the row they had in Kinsale when the two had first said _I love you_ and then Tom neglected to wake her up the morning after so she could attend church with his family. She also remembered how they had spent that same afternoon out on the hammock by the docks. Sybil smiled to think of all of the time the two wasted underneath the Irish sun, their limbs tangled and their lips rarely parted.

"I won't go in Emilee and Rory's rooms," Sybil promised lastly, all before beginning to ascend the carpeted steps. Her mind was no longer with him and the haste her legs carried had nothing to do with a worry that Tom would soon be chaperoning her self-guided tour.

"They're not here," Tom shouted. "Do what you have to do just don't steal _my_ shit," he emphasized.

"I make no promises there," she managed. Any yelling that would have happened thereafter would have been lost on the both of them as Sybil pushed her way into Tom's room. Even without their shared noise, something about the world beyond that tall door had the moment Sybil stood in feeling eerily silent and still.

Tom's bedroom was pristine and she smiled to think that her visit did nothing to encourage this behavior. In a way the space reminded her of the bedroom he had in Kinsale, the same room his mother had redecorated in hopes of keeping him in Ireland. The bed itself was larger - somehow - but all of the dark hues of indigo, eggplant, and grey marked the space and were matched by the deep stains of his furniture. Everything smelled of him and naturally so: shampoo and aftershave, the former of which had changed since they'd first met while the latter did not. There was no pretense here, just a very raw version of the man Tom was, the man she once had the pleasure of knowing and loving.

Just off the bedroom there were two doors. One led into Tom's bathroom where a glass shower was flanked by wood and more shades of grey, this time on the tiled walls and the frame of the mirror above his sink. Sybil's eyes darted about so quickly she almost missed the porcelain tub in the corner underneath the window. Even amongst the clean, it looked the most untouched and she was powerless against a grin that appeared because she was suddenly recalling all of the times she convinced Tom to spend late nights emerged in a soapy bath with her. But she was not here now to force him to slow down like that and she was sure he now lived a life so routine he too failed to see the tub.

There was a single light switch outside of Tom's closet. Sybil ran her hand along the wall, clicking the notch into place, causing the bulbs to flash on inside. It revealed a room of suits and shoes with intricate shelving meant to separate the two. These were the items you could see, whereas his jeans and t-shirts were tucked into dresser drawers, taken out only on nights like this. Even his running shoes were hidden in the back corner, adding color to the otherwise muted collection of navy and forest green and an impossible amount of tweed and brown leather. At one point he didn't care what he wore, now it seemed he had too much time on his hands not to.

Like the dress she wore, Sybil pondered if Tom felt out of place in his more casual clothes. The two had become so involved in their careers they forgot to exist outside of them, making wardrobe somewhat of a challenge. With this surgery, both were forced to reassess. There were the people they were at the hospital and then the people they were now and it made Sybil smile to think of how overqualified they were to be themselves when the world turned a blind eye.

Once again the light was turned off and Sybil found herself standing directly in front of Tom's bed. The walls around it were bare and no picture frames were propped on his bedside table or on the ledges of the nearby wall of windows. She had managed to ignore a nearby linen closet and stopped herself from searching the insides of each nightstand. What Sybil couldn't do was resist his bed. She was drawn to the size of it and without thought she approached the mattress and began to run her fingers over the bedspread. It was incredibly soft, causing memories to come flooding back: his hands gripping her hips, his lips leaving a sticky wet trail down her spine, and the way he'd kiss her so tenderly even when he was filled with nothing but want.

"You okay?"

Seeing Tom now standing in the doorway, Sybil gave a small smile. "M'fine."

She was slightly nervous being here, especially with Tom now standing inches away. It seemed he carried some of that same energy, especially as he took yet another step in her direction and found she did not step back. "What do you think?"

"Did your mum do this?"

"She helped," Tom confirmed with a nod.

"I figured," Sybil said, all with a barely-there laugh. It gave her permission to look away though as soon as she had done so she wondered what it was that compelled the action. She was actually enjoying the way his eyes bore into her, wanting nothing more than to stare for just a little longer. "It's very you…"

Tom's hands had fallen from his pockets and now crossed over his chest as if her words had invited him to be more of himself. His confidence had returned, or at least he'd mustered up enough courage to make that seem as if it were the case. Really, his chest was beating and he was doing his best to think of a more delicate sentence structure to convey all he was currently feeling, translating the gibberish his mind produced with Sybil so close and the two now alone.

"A bit of an upgrade from the loft," he noted.

Sybil grinned, this time more fully. "I loved that loft."

Tom's breath faltered and with it his chest fell. "I know you did."

Sybil had no words, leaving the two to blink at one another while their thoughts spent the quiet time dismissing actions neither felt were suitable. Sybil was even daring enough to glance to his bed.

For her own benefit, Tom fixed his posture and took a step toward the door. "Meat is almost done. Wanna come help me with the rest?"

It was a suggestion but as Tom went back into the hallway, he expected Sybil to follow. His thoughts lingered close to her own, but as he swallowed and watched her fingertips once again dance across his mattress, he sought an immediate exit. It was a disregard for the things he was thinking and it was possible that the problem was that Sybil thought nothing of the action — a fact that felt like an actual punch to the gut, knocking the wind from his lungs and rendering him speechless.

"You invited me for dinner," Sybil said as they headed for the door. "I didn't know I'd be cooking. That wasn't part of the plan."

The two were almost to the landing now. Tom turned back to Sybil and bit a knowing remark. All of his restraint was lost now that the two stood on more solid ground. "Princess."

Sybil's body acted in the way his mind had, or rather, she gave him the answer to a question he didn't even need to ask. With an absurd amount of determination she lunged at him, her body moving softly to meet his own. Already Tom was reacting, turning toward her to grab for her wrists and hold them in the air, far from his body. It was the opposite of his intention but it still brought her midsection close. Soon she was practically flush against him, still laughing until she caught his eyes and the moment was completely lost to seriousness.

As Sybil exhaled, Tom breathed her in. His gaze captured her once more as if to ask her if all of this were okay. She nodded and their hands fell. The slow pace at which they were previously moving was forfeited as the two shifted to gain control. Even as Sybil moved in, Tom remained stiff, giving her plenty of time to retract all of the things her lips were about to offer. It was she who closed the distance and he met her there, the two finally sharing a soft kiss. There was no hesitation and as Sybil leaned fully in, the fists her hands were making surrendered, turning to soft palms against his cheeks.

When they broke away, Sybil's arms retreated back to her sides. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks were flushed. Tom was convinced she was ready to leave; the door was directly behind them and part of him couldn't blame her for wanting to run - it terrified him too. Instead, she tenderly wrapped her hands around his neck, bringing him closer. They were reconnected again, this time moving against one another in search of that perfect rhythm their bodies once had. Both of Tom's hands rested upon her hips, keeping her tight against him. She didn't seem to mind, for as Tom arched his back, Sybil followed, ultimately bending with him. The two only stopped when behind them the door opened, caused the two to exist on the stair landing as if they were standing on a stage. At the door Emilee stood slack jawed, her eyes widened by the performance before her.

Sybil was embarrassed. The rouge in her cheeks intensified, but with her back to Emilee she merely dropped her head down. She didn't, however, completely detach from Tom. The grip she had on his neck yielded and her hands slid down to rest upon his chest. She was not pushing him away but instead using him for support, asking him for a sentiment she knew she should have been giving him. In a way though, her stomach fluttered at the thoughts of all they used to hide now so boldly displayed in a way that still gave Tom and her the upper-hand.

"Hey, Em…" Tom gave with a nervous chuckle.

The blonde nodded as if to acknowledge his anxiety. "Hi." Then: "Hi Sybil," she said more loudly, craning her neck to do so.

Sybil finally turned back, her eyes locking with Tom's sister's for the first time in many years. But it was not the time that passed that made all of this feel brand new. Though the two were caught in something they still didn't understand, Sybil felt a weight lifted from her when she realized how irrelevant Emilee's inevitable opinion would become. Similarly, it was more than acceptable that Mary or Gwen also disapprove of her actions with Tom; her heart was not theirs to give.

With this knowledge, Sybil forced out a smile meant to steady her breathing. "Hi Emilee."

~!~

With the moment gone and the dinner still unmade, Sybil and Tom had no choice but to follow Emilee back to the kitchen. They watched as she grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator and then again as she picked up a set of keys from a hook on the wall. The attention their eyes gave had Emilee moving more quickly, though mostly out of amusement.

"I'm taking the car to pick up Rory."

Tom's eyes narrowed as he looked toward his sister. "Isn't that where you just where?"

Emilee's glare thinned too, causing her to jut out her hip and lean into the space Tom and Sybil occupied. "If that were the case, wouldn't she be here now?" she asked, her eyes now scanning the room.

Tom rolled his eyes. "Alright, smartass…"

"Is that an 'okay, you can take the car'?"

"Of course you can take the car," he sighed. "When are you going to be—"

"Late," Emilee choked out, this time with much less mirth. "Later," she then corrected.

Sybil and she did not glance toward one another again. Without much noise, Emilee was gone, leaving Sybil and Tom to finally acknowledge their earlier moment. Sybil did so while chopping green onions, her cheeks still a vivid crimson.

"Well that was awful…" she quipped.

From his place at the stove, Tom looked to her. "I beg to differ," he said boldly.

It was Sybil's turn to roll her eyes. The Branson siblings had a likeness that far surpassed their looks. "She already doesn't like me and she walks in here and we're snogging."

"Calm down."

Sybil dropped her knife and turned to Tom. "That can't happen again," she said, her voice sounding somewhat frantic.

Tom paused. Sybil's face told a different story and once again he was staring, blinking, giving her time to retract a statement he didn't care to hear. "Whatever, Syb," he finally said. With a loud click he turned the stove off and moved toward the counter with the frying pan. His action was spurred on by frustration, all of him now creating noise in an attempt to fill the time with activities he thought were more productive than her lying.

"Stop," Sybil begged, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "We…we can't, Tom…you know that. I'm your doctor and you're my patient and I'm…I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."

"I had a pretty good idea," he jested.

A crease cut into Sybil's forehead, replacing any emotion she was feeling (and trying to hide) with a clear show of sadness. "Will you please stop making fun of me?"

"I'm hardly making fun of you, Sybil. You're just being dramatic and it's nothing."

"What is? Our kiss or Emilee walking is on us?"

"Does it matter?" he asked, again with attitude. "You want to forget both!" All at once Tom preferred their silence; the pain of things left unsaid was far more bearable than the cacophonous sound of honesty hitting the air. Sybil looked away and Tom sighed out before continuing. "Can we just forget about this? We were having a nice night…"

Though she had not yet been with him a full hour, Sybil couldn't help but to agree and the smile she shared with him told him this. "Yeah," she breathed out. "I mean…sure. Of course."

The only soundtrack evident as the two began to plate each ingredient was that of footsteps and shuffling. Sybil didn't need to ask Tom where he kept his dishware. This entire kitchen was just as organized as the rest of his house and it made finding each item an easy task. Together they moved quite nicely together, placing down dishes and silverware before they too took a seat. Both had bottles of beer in front of them, adding to the relaxed atmosphere.

"I have to tell you things," Tom began. He coughed thereafter, covering his mouth with the knuckles of his balled up fist.

"Things?" Sybil inquired, now wearing her curiosity high on her face.

Tom was still nervous. He gave another dry cough before shifting in his seat and ultimately repositioning his napkin. "I don't know when else they'll come up and honestly I'd rather they not at all but that's not what I'm about and that's certainly not going to win you over."

Sybil swallowed her most recent bite and then sat back in her chair. "Win me over?"

Feeling dejected, Tom avoided her gaze and looked down. "Please stop acting like you don't know how I feel about you, Sybil." His words immediately stopped her heart. It started only when he began to speak again. "Do you want to eat first?"

"That bad?"

"I'm not proud of it," he admitted with a shrug.

Sybil nodded as if to accept all he was about to throw at her. "Alright…"

"I didn't date anyone," Tom began, his voice sounding as concentrated as he seemed to be. "After you, I mean. I thought I was crazy. I imagined you had thousands of boyfriends—"

Sybil smirked from out behind the mouth of her beer bottle. "Thousands?"

"I couldn't imagine you had gone away only for American blokes to turn the other way."

"They didn't."

"What?"

Sybil paused. Her hands were somehow in her lap, picking at the skin on her thumb with no plans to return to the meal anytime soon. "Well you asked if I was dating anyone. And I'm not. And I haven't. I know that sounds pathetic…"

"It doesn't," Tom assured. "I just told you I haven't had a girlfriend since you."

"Yeah but I know what follows that and—"

Tom's hand gripped the edge of the table allowing him to lean in toward her as if to hear her more clearly. "You do?"

"Just let me finish, okay? I didn't date anyone and I don't know why. I could have. There were loads of nice guys. Nice, educated guys with good jobs. They were sweet and they wanted to take me places and they treated me well. I'd let them take me out for coffee maybe, or they'd walk me to class, and that was it. I had insignificant dates...if you could even call them that...but nothing ever came of them. Mary called it the meal plan. I just got free food out of it."

Tom laughed. "You would."

"And I know what you're going to say…"

All humor was gone as Tom wondered why he ever though Sybil would think anything else of him. "Do you?" _Of course she knows_ , he thought. He was always an easy assumption for her to make.

"I thought about this a lot."

Tom shook his head. "Don't tell me that."

"Well I did. I still do."

"God, Syb, really…"

"I thought you'd either be in a long term committed relationship or—"

"Or?"

"You fucked a lot of girls."

"I fucked a lot of girls," he admitted.

"I figured," she shrugged.

"I'm sorry." He looked as if he were going to reach out to her but somehow the distance separating them remained consistent.

"S'okay Tom," Sybil laughed. "Nothing to apologize for. We weren't dating...we're still not dating," she reminded with a change of tone.

"I'm not proud of it."

"You said that already. But it's okay. At least one of us was having sex, right?"

Tom's eyes widened. "Please don't say that…"

"Tom, really, it's no big deal." While he took her in, gauging her nerves and the way her body now seemed to decrease in size, he couldn't help but to notice Sybil couldn't look at him. He wondered if he'd ever get that back, then he began to wonder if he did, if it were something he deserved in the first place.

"It is to me. That should have been you. And you definitely deserve to be having sex. Christ..."

"Tom…"

"I should have waited, Syb. I should have tried to get you back."

"Tom, please, alright? I really didn't want to do this tonight…"

"I didn't either but I didn't know when else it would come up and I didn't want it to ruin a good night."

"Well isn't that what it's done?"

"No, Emilee did that," he scoffed.

"I wasn't going to shag you. I told you that. So she didn't interrupt much."

"I wasn't expecting that. And now I'm never expecting that."

"Tom, you're an adult. It was a long time and you have your needs—"

"I was stupid, Syb…"

"Yeah, you were," she shrugged but with a sincere laugh of disregard. "But it's okay."

"No...it's not."

"It's….bloody hell," she let out. She tossed her head back and reached up to pinch at the bridge of her nose. "I don't want to cry."

"Then don't."

"It's not that easy."

"Let me help you." This time he did reach out and was surprised to find she didn't pull away. Together their hands laid flat upon the table, mere inches away.

"You can't. I just...I don't even know if…"

"If?"

"Sod it," she breathed out. "Do you want to know what kills me?"

"I guess. Do I have much of a choice?"

"You do, actually. But I'm hoping you'll let me say this and you'll try to see where I'm coming from."

"Of course."

"Do you want to know the real reason I was so heartbroken?"

"Not really but I deserve to. I deserve to feel even worse than I already do. I still haven't forgiven myself and I honestly don't expect you to. I'm still so surprised you're even here."

"You didn't give me a choice."

"Wait, what?"

"Not now...not here. I want to be here. I still want to be here," she rambled. "But back then...when you broke things off...you didn't ask me what I wanted. You just acted. You did what you thought was best for me. You treated me like a child who couldn't make her own decisions. You were always different and then suddenly you were treating me the way everyone else did. You didn't ask me what I thought of us taking a break or if I was scared of leaving for a bit. You just assumed because _you_ were scared so you got me before I could get you."

"Sybil, god, I'm sorry—"

"Don't be," Sybil said, shrugging again. It was a habit she had, one that held back the tears she wished to cry. "I think it was the right decision. I think I did better in school because you weren't in my life…"

"Oh." There was silence but Tom heard the word over and over again, echoing in his mind. _Oh_.

"I've never told anyone that so please don't...I can't believe I just told you that," she admitted, as if to herself. "So I wanted to hate you. For awhile I did. I was so unbelievably hurt, Tom. I didn't know it was possible to feel that much pain. But I did. But then I came to my senses and saw that maybe you had a point."

"I don't think I did."

"You did," she assured him. "Your heart was somehow in the right place."

"It wasn't…"

"It was," Sybil repeated slowly. "You thought you were helping me and I honestly believe that you did. I am where I am because of the decision you made for me...for us. When I came to terms with that I came to terms with other things."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. I'm scared now. Again," she added. "And I was scared then too but it's worse now. It's more real."

"Why are you...don't be scared, Syb. You're not going to fall in love with me again. I'm not daft."

"You are though. And so am I. But you're right...I won't fall in love with you again. It can't happen for a second time if I never stopped in the first place."

~!~

After meeting Tom, Sybil remembered thinking that she couldn't imagine a day when the two would have nothing left to talk about. Back then she also couldn't think of a day when the two wouldn't be together. The latter was an all too apparent truth, one they could now acknowledge the pain behind because it no longer held any weight. The pair had just shared a dinner and with it, far too many secrets. It was as if the floodgates had opened and they were back to having a million things to talk about. They could discuss his family and hers and work and travel plans. What they wouldn't discuss were the same things that created the intimacy behind their honesty in the first place. They may not have kissed again, but Sybil was also not running for the door. She actually stood rather close to Tom while the two began to scrub at their dirty plates and the accompanying silverware all while Tom's dishwasher stood empty just steps away.

"It's Thursday…" Sybil commented casually.

Tom smirked. "Yeah, it is."

"Where…" She stopped herself from continuing with a shake of her head. "Nevermind."

This time Tom's mouth parted into a full grin. He waited, but only so he could admire the way Sybil wore the face of a guilty child. "What is it?"

"Well it's...it's almost ten. Where is Rory?"

"She's…" Tom exhaled heavily. "Rory's at the library. She told me she would be there until closing...they close at midnight this week because of finals. She said she'd take the bus home and that she'd call if she needed me. Emilee doesn't know Rory tells me the things she does and she'd have a fit if she did—"

"Tom, you're her uncle. You've taken them in…"

"Yeah and Emilee still acts like she's here for my own benefit."

Sybil leaned back. "Your benefit?"

There was a beat. "With my heart," he explained. "That's not...it's not the point. The point is that I think Em's been lying and now I know she has because Rory only comes to me when Em absolutely cannot help. Those two are inseparable. But Rory's kept her mouth shut and I know she's worried. I mean, I'm worried too. She's not going to pick Rory up so God only knows where I've just let her take my car."

Sybil's forehead creased in concern. "Tom, there's...it's okay to be worried, you know."

"I'm thirty-four," he stated with a chuckle. "I'm kind of done with taking care of my sister. I mean, if that's what she needs, then fine. But she's not a child and I'm not here to police her actions. She got a lot of that at home after she had Rory and I know she'd get it if she went back. But if she's lying and not taking care of herself…"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what I mean. That's the problem," he admitted softly. "Something's not right."

"Well what do you think it is? Drugs?"

Tom forced out a breathy laugh. "No, hardly," he disregarded. "Em doesn't do drugs...she does boys. Really shitty blokes who don't give two fucks about her."

"I used to think Matthew was a shitty bloke who didn't care about Mary…"

"Matthew's set to be Solicitor General in the next few years. He was an absolute asshat to Mary but his boyhood stupidity doesn't hold a feckin' candle to the guys Em dates. I just...how you can be so pretty and have so much going for you and yet be so god damn stupid...it baffles me."

"What's happened since I was in Ireland? Is that the part I can't know?"

"Well…" Tom paused. "There were a few guys. We never met any of them."

"We?"

"My parents and me."

"Em's older than you, Tom. Maybe you should stop acting like you know what's best for her."

"Maybe she should stop acting like a child and I wouldn't have to."

Sybil stood back and pressed a hand to her hip. "Now who's acting like a child?"

"Me," Tom said confidently. "We still fight like siblings. She's my sister and I just don't get why she can't grow up and start spending her time with someone who's actually worthy of it."

"Have you told her that?"

"Of course," Tom nodded strongly.

"And?"

"And she tells me she'd rather be wasting her time _with someone_ rather than just wasting her time."

"What does that mean?"

"It means my sister's a bitch and she thinks I'm lonely."

"Well you are lonely," Sybil observed.

Tom dropped his head back to laugh. "Not feeling too lonely right now," he stated, all with a steady exhale. "It comes and goes."

There was silence again but as Sybil placed a plate in the nearby drying rack, she turned back to Tom. "Mary…" But she stopped herself.

Again Tom was looking to her, pausing to give her a chance to fix her own mistake. When none came, he tried once more. "We can't do this all night. I can't drag everything out of you."

"Why not? The things I had to say came easily. It's everyone's else's baggage I seem to want to hold onto."

"Alright," Tom sighed, "so Mary…"

"She's pregnant."

"Jesus Christ!" Tom let out quite loudly. "Is it Matthew's?"

"Yes, it's Matthew's!" Sybil roared back. "Who else's would it be?"

"I don't know. Maybe she has a lover."

Sybil deadpanned. "A lover?"

"No, you're right, very few people are brave enough to sleep with Mary."

"Hey, you git! That's my sister! Just because you don't want to sleep with her doesn't mean other guys don't."

"So are you upset I never wanted to sleep with Mary, or…"

"No!" Sybil bellowed. "I was always very, very appreciative of that. Believe it or not, that's a requirement for me. _Must not want to sleep with any Crawley family members that are not me._ "

"Alright, alright…" Tom settled. "So she's pregnant. And it's Matthew's. Where's the news?"

"Tom, they're not married yet…"

Dramatically Tom took a step back from the sink and gasped. "They're not?"

Sybil was amused but she still reached forward to shove at his shoulder in reprimand. "Those things matter to Mary!"

"Why?"

"Because they matter to my parents, I assume."

"You assume?"

"I know," she confirmed.

"Do you…" It was Tom's turn to halt his speech.

And it was Sybil's turn to question him on it. "Yes?"

"No, nothing."

"Not fair!" Sybil shot out. "What? Do I, what?"

"Do you ever think about what would have happened if you got pregnant?"

Sybil blinked. "When?"

"Back then. With me," Tom explained. "You know...if that scare we had that one time wasn't a scare."

"Are you asking if I even think about what would have happened if you actually did knock me up back then and I had the baby?"

"If _we_ had _a_ baby," Tom corrected.

Sybil turned away from him. "No," she gave strongly. "No, I honestly don't think about it. It didn't happen."

"I know it didn't, but—"

Sybil looked to Tom and her eyes begged that it be the last time. "No, Tom, because it didn't."

He looked away and she did too. It was a silent vow to not return to the past anymore, at least for the rest of the night — at least for now.

Soon Tom turned back to her, this time with a new topic and she gave him a smile, happy to have it but also apologetic for her dismissal of his altogether legitimate inquiry. "My parents celebrate their fortieth wedding anniversary this summer. Isn't that insane?"

"That's not insane! My parents just hit thirty-five years last month."

"I cannot imagine being with someone that long. I mean...forty years?"

Sybil dropped her head back to laugh. "Yes, you can! You're just being cynical!"

"Alright, maybe," Tom accepted, also with humor. "How's Gwen?"

It was another shift Sybil was impressed with, this time because she was far too tired to call his bluff. It was not just assumption that had her arguing his statement. They'd discussed this before, their want to get married and grow old with one another. Sybil remembered how cold that night was and how both were too wrapped up in one another to get up and close the window. She also remembered how then both knew they were referencing one another, and now how they could go from planning their futures around one another to wondering if that was even still a possibility.

For the rest of the night Sybil remembered listening to Tom and not only smiling but laughing at the things he had to say. He existed to her as a silhouette with the rest of the kitchen fading to a blur around him. When the dishes were clean and carefully stacked on the nearby drying rack, both stood back to admire their work. Sybil's eyes were caught on the flickering of the candle they'd lit earlier, with her gaze interrupted only when Tom spoke.

"Can I walk you home?"

Her eyes thinned as she took him in. "Yeah...yeah, of course," she settled. "That'd be nice."

~!~

All around them the night felt vacant with only the occasional taxi cab passing them by. Though out of the confines of Tom's flat, both still felt very alone. Without words, and especially without the need for any, it was a comforting feeling. There was of course the occasional smile, that of which Tom held for far longer than Sybil. Her cheeks felt stiff from the grin she wore and the way she shared her elation with the pavement below had her hips bumping Tom's every so often. It was only when his fingertips reached out for hers that she gave in. Sybil had no choice but to look to Tom, then straight ahead as his hand accepted the offer of her palm. Such a simple touch did not encourage talking - if anything it only welcomed the silence.

At her flat, Sybil looked upward as if to show Tom that it was time for them to part. "Thank you..."

"No need to thank me," Tom stated strongly but with a voice that was still so calm. "Thank you…"

Sybil's brow furrowed. "For what?"

"For coming tonight. For letting me make you dinner. I...I'm sure it wasn't easy but I really appreciate it."

Sybil's lips pursed into a soft smirk. "It was though." Then: "Easy, that is."

There was a pause before Tom nodded. "Yeah…"

Suddenly a wave of sadness washed of Sybil, making her feel as if she might cry. Something about the way the two looked at one another had her feeling uneasy - this felt too much like a Goodbye.

In hopes of banishing that thought, Sybil took a quick step toward Tom and enveloped him in her arms. He reciprocated, his hands holding tight around her midsection just as he'd done when the two kissed earlier than evening. The grip Sybil had around Tom's neck had her head falling to his shoulder. She blinked idly at the streetlamp up ahead.

"I do think about it," Sybil revealed, pulling away from the hug. "I think about it a lot, especially lately."

"What?"

"If I ever did get pregnant," she explained. "We would have gone back to Ireland and you would have worked and I would have stayed home with the baby. We wouldn't have stayed in Cambridge. My parents probably wouldn't be speaking to me but your parents would so Kinsale is the easy choice. We'd have help that way, you know? And I'd probably never see Mary or Gwen because they wouldn't have much in common with me anymore. I wouldn't know William. And I think you and I would have fallen apart eventually."

"Sybil, I…"

"They're sad thoughts but they're good thoughts for me to have. You gave me a lot of time to think, Tom. I honestly don't think I did much of that when we were together. I...love makes you crazy. It's not really a good or a bad thing...it just is. I guess I never understood that before you."

"I feel like I should apologize."

"Why? None of that happened. We're here now. I just ate Mexican food on a first date. Something I swore I'd never do..."

"A first date?"

"It's practically a first date, yeah?"

"I'm not going to lie and say that I'm not enjoying the fact that you're calling this a date but...we haven't changed that much, Syb. Tonight showed me that."

"I agree. But our worlds have. And that's okay."

"Well if it's any consolation, I'm glad my world still has you in it."

Sybil's eyes welled up with tears. In an attempt to hide this, she pulled Tom in for another hug and held on for what she knew was far too long — it seemed that was the only thing she knew how to do with him. "Me too."

~!~

Sybil's heart was too heavy to process much of what had just happened. As she shut the front door and slowly began to trudge toward her room she made no effort to quiet her steps. If anything Sybil felt a small duty to show her best friends that she did in fact return to her own flat for the night but she wondered if such a thing mattered; maybe she was easier to read than she had thought and both her best friends would be able to see that Sybil's actions were not any indication of her wishes. As she made it to her room, she wondered if this was the case for Tom as well.

Similarly, she didn't bother to shut her door. It was typical for the flat to feel this vacant, making Sybil often think she lived alone. The twenty-something life of pubs and casual sex had never interested her, and she felt even more disconnected from it after the night she had. In this discovery she also felt more alone and was relieved to find that Tom had already texted her.

"Thanks," he said. "Again," appeared directly after.

Sybil forced a smile. "I should be thanking you," she explained. "Thanks for the invite."

"Thanks for helping me wash dishes."

"Thanks for walking me home."

"Are you home yet?" she asked.

Tom smiled down at his phone screen. Briefly he wondered what he looked like to fellow passengers on the bus. "Not quite." He paused before sending another text. "Thanks for caring about my wellbeing."

"There's this surgery coming up and it means a lot to my career so I kind of need you alive for it to matter."

"Ahhh," Tom typed with a laugh. "Thanks for the honesty."

Sybil paused, wondering if he was maybe referencing everything else she'd told him that night. Even if he wasn't, her response stood true for it all. "Always."

She dropped her phone on her mattress and began to get changed for bed. She washed her face and combed her hair. She'd almost finished brushing her teeth when she checked her phone again. With a foamy mouth she smiled, seeing that Tom texted her to confirm he was home. Again the phone was forgotten and when Sybil returned from the bathroom she clicked off the light and crawled into bed.

The light of her cell phone screen illuminated her face, making it easy for Gwen to see that her best friend was still up. "Hey," Gwen tried, now standing at the threshold between Sybil's room and the hallway. "Mind if I come in?"

Sybil finished her text to Tom, something about her upcoming work schedule, and put the device down on her end table. "Of course not."

Gwen made little work of walking to Sybil, and without prompt was quickly under the covers with her best friend. Immediately Sybil turned to her and two two were practically touching noses, looking like little girls ready to share secrets.

"I'm sorry if I upset you."

"You didn't," Sybil confirmed. "I'm sorry if—"

"No, Syb...William kind of convinced me I was wrong and—"

"You're not wrong. I shouldn't have lied. I don't know why I did. I think I'm telling myself that all of this is nothing in hopes that I'll believe it."

"Yeah?" Gwen breathed out a laugh. "And how's that going?"

"Like shit," Sybil admitted.

"How was it?"

Sybil looked up. Her mind had wandered and she wondered what Tom was doing now. "What?"

"Tonight," Gwen said softly. "With Tom."

"Oh...it was—"

"Not the version you want to believe, Syb...the truth."

"It was really, really nice, actually."

"You look happy," Gwen observed.

"I think I am happy."

"You think?"

"I forgot what it felt like. Real, true happiness. It's...it's been awhile, I guess," Sybil gave with an apologetic shrug. "Seven or so years…"

"You deserve to be happy, you know."

"I know," Sybil accepted. "I guess the problem is that I thought I already was. I didn't think I was settling I just didn't think it could get any better. I liked my life. I still like my life."

Gwen smirked. "Yeah?"

"I think I just like it a bit more now that Tom's back in it."

* * *

I originally had this really long author's note that I was going to attach to the end of this chapter but I'm going to leave it out and just hope that this chapter really started to challenge some of your initial opinions on this story and its trajectory.

Let's hear it! Reviews would be really, really lovely :)

Thanks for reading!

x. Elle


	14. A Thing

"Is that clear, Tom?"

Tom only moved when called upon, blinking away a memory he wasn't even aware he was lost in. He had been sitting in Dr. Frye's office for nearly twenty minutes before their typical Monday morning meeting. For ten of those minutes, Sybil and the rest of the Residents stood behind him near the radiator and when Dr. Frye entered, they all carried on just as they usually would. Tom remembered Dr. Frye sitting down but he didn't remember anything beyond that. His mind was elsewhere, an easy occurrence when he'd been up grading papers, spending the time in between texting the brunette that currently stood just a few feet away.

"What? I'm sorry…" he immediately apologized, also shifting in his seat to correct his posture. His hand no longer propped up his head and when he attempted to concentrate on what Dr. Frye was saying, he saw Sybil smirking out of the corner of his eye.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I, uh...long night," he explained. As was typical for Tom, he elaborated with humor. "Things are are a bit hectic for me right now...I'm in the middle of midterms and I feel like I know what it's like to be you guys working these 12-hour shifts so any pointers you have would be great."

"Sleep," Dr. Frye stated flatly. "Water. Exercise. Eating well."

Tom made a face as if to ask the surgeon for a more realistic answer. "So have the lifestyle I already have and just expect it to get better?"

Dr. Frye crossed his hands on his desk and nodded. "Indeed." Before anyone else could say anything, he clarified. "And basically observe what Sybil, William, and Benjamin do and then do the opposite." His comment caused Tom to chuckle. "That," Frye continued, "or get better at sleeping with your eyes open."

"Yeah? Do they teach you that in med school?"

"They should," Dr. Frye agreed with a laugh. "Now," he said, "As I was saying. Surgery is only two months away. We have a day of final post-op testing planned for the the 22nd—"

"Of June?" Sybil asked. Her question gave Tom permission to turn to look at her. Her hair was down today and she wore a navy shirt underneath her scrubs instead of her typical grey one. He smiled and then looked back to Dr. Frye.

"Of May."

"Yeah, can't," Sybil stated plainly.

Dr. Frye smirked. "And why not?"

"I have a thing," she said confidently. "And I told you about that thing, remember?"

William caught on and nodded "Oh yeah, I'm going to that thing too!"

Dr. Frye exhaled loudly through his nose. "You're right...you did. And you're gone for how long?"

"A week."

He nodded. "Of course you are."

"I'm sorry—"

Dr. Frye raised his hand to stop Sybil's apology. "It's an important _thing_ , I suppose." He then sat forward, grabbing for his glasses and putting them on so he could glance down at the calendar on his desk. "We'll have to do it the week before. Any objections? Any other _things_ I should know about?" The room fell silent so he continued. "I'm still debating on whether or not I want to go ahead with the ablation—"

Tom raised his hand. "Uh, yeah, I'm going to be really honest and let you know that I didn't know what you were talking about last time you said that and I certainly haven't learned in the meantime."

"Catheter or Surgical?" Sybil asked. Just as everyone else did, Tom looked to her, but when Dr. Frye gave his answer, he was the only one who didn't look away.

"Catheter," he said.

The word caught Tom's attention. "Really? Is that necessary?"

"They go through your arm," Sybil explained with an eye roll.

Tom accepted her answer. As he turned back to Dr. Frye he began to wonder what name she would have called him had they not been in public. "Alright so what's going through my arm then?"

"Ben?" Dr. Frye called. The boy looked up. "Do you want to explain to Mr. Branson what's going to happen?"

"You're, uh, we stick a tube in your arm and guide it to your heart and then we use radiofrequency to shock your heart. It causes...there's, uh, scarring and it kills the tissue that could be causing the problem."

Tom looked back to the surgeon. "I thought we said it wasn't a tissue issue. The cardioversions didn't work only proving that we just need to cut me open and get this over with."

"Yes, but this may give me a better indication of what we're going to be dealing with."

"That's reassuring," Tom deadpanned. "There's no other way? I'm sick of having all of these foreign things inserted into me."

"You get used to it," William said flatly. Sybil snorted and immediately moved to cover her mouth. Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned red and her body was so motionless she didn't even move to elbow her best friend. Both Dr. Frye and Tom turned to look at the pair but Tom's eyes danced upon Sybil. He smirked at her while Dr. Frye gave William a stern look of disapproval.

"Sometimes the maturity of you three astounds me," Dr. Frye assessed. He took off his glasses and sat back in his leather chair. "So let's do that the week of the 15th."

"Is it inpatient?" Tom asked.

Dr. Frye grinned. "I will admit, you may be spending too much time in this hospital."

Tom smiled too, but the action fell quickly when he realized just how exhausted he truly was. "So is that a no?"

"That's a no."

"Thank Christ…"

"Now does anyone have any other questions? Immature comments?" The room was silent. "No? Great." There was no salutation of dismissal, just the action of Dr. Frye standing up and exiting his office. It was expected that they'd all follow, with the last one out turning off the light and shutting the door.

Like children they all began to file out, one after the other. Tom stood behind Sybil and just as she moved forward, he grabbed for her wrist and brought her body spinning back into the room with him. William noticed and quietly shut the door behind him, finally leaving the two alone.

"What's this magical _thing_?" Tom prepositioned.

Sybil smirked. With her arms crossed over her chest she turned to look to the door then back to him. "I...I can't answer that and I'm trying to figure out how we're going to get out of here without looking suspicious. He…" Her light-hearted nature was lost for a moment. "Will shouldn't have shut that door…"

Tom grinned. "Why? We're having a gab." Sybil tilted her head as if to ask Tom to reevaluate his statement. He scoffed out a laugh, pressing his tongue to the side of his cheek as he turned to look out the window.

"It's a Mary thing," Sybil explained.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I like to keep my Mary-life and my You-life separate."

Tom beamed. "There's a Me-life?"

Sybil laughed and pointed a finger in his direction. "Don't push it," she warned with an amused smile.

"Can I guess what it is?"

"No, you may not."

"I didn't say I was going to guess _where_ the wedding is," Tom explained slowly. When the word fell from his lips Sybil's mouth puckered; she wore the face of a child annoyed for being found in a likely hiding spot. Tom thought it to be rather cute and as she swayed before him, he was only encouraged to continue. "The paper's have done a really good job narrowing it down. They've got some good guesses going."

"Well it's private…"

"Who am I going to tell?"

"No one, I just…"

"Syb," Tom said gruffly, his mouth now close to her ear, "I know she's pregnant and I think that's a far bigger secret."

There was no other prompting. "Scotland," Sybil stated simply. With it came a mischievous smile, one that told Tom she had no intention of keeping this information from him for too long.

"Man, I can't believe they're getting married…"

Sybil perked up. "Why?"

"You can?"

"Of course I can! They're disgustingly sweet. It's really rather unbearable, if we're being honest."

"All that drama and now this."

Sybil shared a smile. "You know…" But her voice trailed off into nothing and her eyes looked to the floor.

Tom had grabbed his laptop bag from the floor and was now standing before her again, this time even closer. "What?"

"No, nevermind—"

"Syb," Tom drawled, trying to drag it out of her.

"No, nothing, sorry," she said with a shrug. "Not my story to share."

Tom's mouth turned upward in a smile. "Does everyone else know your stories as well as you know theirs?"

Sybil's lips curled upward but they didn't dare part. "Hardly." She let out a steady sigh. "I was just going to say that Mary's only ever slept with Matthew. After all those rumors and everything." She paused before looking back to him. "I've somehow slept with more people than Mary."

Tom chuckled. "If you discount your unfortunate encounter with Ben, you two are tied."

"Can you please not make a joke of my sex life?"

"Or lackthereof," Tom said causing Sybil's eyes to widen and for her to lean forward as if her irritation had her body craving him.

"Do you want me to start commenting on yours?"

"No, please don't," Tom stated quickly, his voice losing all layers of jest. "But I wasn't joking. I'm pissed you weren't having sex."

Sybil glanced briefly to the door again. When she saw it was still closed and no noise seemed to exist behind it, she turned back to Tom. "Why? It was my choice."

"Was it?"

"Of course it was. Men treated me well and they would have slept with me in a heartbeat. In any other world I would have said yes."

"What's wrong with this world?" Tom asked honestly. "You should have."

Sybil quirked an eyebrow. "You think?" Then: "Would you have been okay with that?"

Tom stuffed his hands into his pockets. He did this a lot lately and Sybil wondered if it meant that he wanted to touch her too. "I wouldn't have had much of a choice, would I? You weren't mine to have anymore."

It was a question both knew the answer to, leading to several silent moments where the two just took one another in. Sybil must have come to a conclusion on the matter before Tom, or at least she had rid her mind of the inappropriate things her thoughts created instead. Her eyes narrowed. "Are we really having this conversation? Now? Here? When we're both running on two hours of sleep and you have to get to class?"

Tom let out a breathy laugh. "Class? Work," he corrected.

"Odd. Yeah, work."

"You should come with me. We both need the caffeine and you're due for a break, yeah?"

"I am, but—"

"You should at least grab a cuppa with me."

"Oh should I?" she smirked.

"I think so. It's well-deserved. Pick one up for Will and Ben too. Make the trip feel useful on your end."

Sybil's lips, pink and perfect, pursed into a contained smile. "Fine."

~!~

Lately it was rare for Mary and Matthew to be granted time together on their respective lunch breaks. What was once a tradition was now overshadowed by dress fittings and meetings with the wedding planner. Matthew had several cases he needed to finish up before leaving for Scotland and Mary still had most of that year's Gala to plan. Somehow in working to secure a new life together, both found themselves spending more and more time apart.

It was for this reason, amongst many others, that Matthew left his office early and headed across town to see Mary. He did it without a text or a call, knowing she'd be powerless against him if she was caught off-guard. This was mostly true, though Mary bit back a slightly annoyed glance at seeing her fiance step off the elevator and onto her floor. She couldn't ever say no to him and she was glad that his presence demanded that they take a break together but that didn't mean she wasn't stressed about all of the work she'd be leaving behind. The papers and contracts seemed to pile up exponentially the closer the wedding date drew.

"Well this is a surprise…" Mary smiled as Matthew stepped toward her. She made no hesitation as she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss.

He smiled. "A good surprise?"

"Mhm," she nodded before pecking at his lips once more.

Casually the two detached and without words, Matthew followed Mary toward her office. Like his, it overlooked the Thames and even with the door closed, it was nothing but a room of windows. Mary grabbed for her jacket from the closet and moved to put it on.

"What's that look?" she inquired.

Matthew brought his eyes to hers. "Nothing."

Mary smirked and took a step into him. She grabbed at his lapels to distract herself from wanting to kiss him again. "Are we not going out then?"

Matthew blinked. "We're...that was the plan."

"Then?"

"I just missed you, s'all," he explained. "I think this is the first time we've been alone since—"

"This morning?" Mary offered up amusedly.

"Well, yeah, I guess. But we were both in a rush and now I'm wondering if I want to take you out for lunch like I planned or if I just want to stand here for a bit and stare at you."

Mary laughed and moved away from him to grab for her purse. She tossed it over her shoulder before returning. "I can't decide if that's creepy or romantic…" Her voice trailed off. "Probably a bit of both, honestly."

Matthew chuckled. "You're right, I'm...I think I'm just tired."

Mary grabbed for Matthew's hand. Before she opened the door to her office, she brought it up to her mouth and kissed at his knuckles. "I've missed you too, by the way. But I don't think your son would like me too much if I skipped a meal. I'm not throwing up anymore and now all I want to do is eat."

"No, of course," Matthew accepted. He wrapped an arm around her waist, letting his hand fall to her hip. The two walked together and when they were safely on the elevator, he leaned in to press a kiss to her temple. "I can stare at you at lunch, I suppose."

~!~

"What was that before?"

Sybil looked to Tom. The two were almost to the cafe and they'd walked this far in silence, not needing words while their hips brushed with each passing step. Just minutes before Sybil had stopped Tom from leaving Dr. Frye's office. She didn't say much but her hands rested upon his and she struggled to make eye contact as she asked that he pause before following her out into the hallway.

She raised her hand to block her eyes from the sun. "What was what?"

"In Dr. Frye's office. Why...should we not be alone?"

Sybil looked away. "I don't think it's an issue of us being alone. I just...I don't want people getting any ideas."

Tom chuckled. "You've said that before."

"I mean, it's fine if we're friends, but—"

"Is it?"

Sybil paused before nodding quickly. "Yeah, of course. People just talk, you know?"

"No, actually...I didn't know."

"It's not that big of a deal," Sybil promised. "I just don't want it to be something it's not."

"You and me, or…"

Sybil smirked. "Them," she tried. "Some of the aids get bored and they like to spread rumors. I think a few of them fancy you and I'm sure they'd love nothing more than to get me in trouble."

"Well if they fancy me, they should respect that getting you in trouble is the last thing I want."

They were at the cafe now. Tom reached forward to open the door but Sybil stopped him. The pair stood close, their eyes darting from mouth to brow and then back again. "We're not going to get trouble...I'm not going to get in trouble," she assured more strongly.

Tom studied her, first the way her lipbalm glossed her pouted lips and now how her eyes, so wide, looked to him as if asking for forgiveness. "You sure?"

"Absolutely."

~!~

"Have you talked to Sybil?"

Matthew looked up from his wallet. "I have, actually. Haven't you?" He grabbed for his credit card and placed it in the nearby book for the waitress to pick up.

"I have," she nodded.

He looked to her, studying the lines on her face. "Is something wrong?"

"No, actually," Mary said, shaking her head. "At least not that I can tell. I guess I'm just comparing notes."

"Not much to compare. She had dinner with my mum last week. Says she's excited about the wedding and taking the time off from work. She always asks how you are because no matter how you're feeling you always tell her you're fine."

"I am fine," Mary assured with a tight-lipped grin. "I don't need her worrying about me. I can take care of myself."

"That's funny because she says similar things about you."

"Well—"

"You're pregnant, Mary," Matthew said lowly. "She's your sister and she has a right to make sure you're feeling well. I mean, she is a doctor. A question like that holds a bit more weight with her, don't you think?"

"Is she...do you think she's happy?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, I do."

"But beyond work," Mary explained. "Is all of it enough?"

"Are you asking if her 12-hour work shifts and artsy flat downtown are enough for her? Yeah, I think she's doing okay."

"I just…"

Matthew looked to his girlfriend, his eyes shadowed as he waited for her to elaborate. When nothing came, he shifted in his chair.

"I just know how I feel about you," Mary finally said. "I know that for as crazy as everything is lately, that having you and having this time together is what has it all making sense. I mean, work's great but this will be the highlight of my day. I guess...I guess I acknowledge that not everyone gets to feel this way and most people probably won't but I know how lovely Sybil is. She's quite near perfect and I'd think it a shame if she weren't putting herself out there and sharing that with someone."

"Mary…"

"I don't want her losing herself in her work, Matthew. I mean, she's worked hard and she's come this far and it's like she's almost to the top of the mountain. All of it is about to pay off and her life can really begin. I just wonder if once all of this madness dies down, when her schedule is normal and she'll have time for herself again...I don't want her to look back on all of this and realize she now has this really great life and no one to share it with."

"And what if she's found someone?"

"Found?" Mary knew where Matthew's mind was; hers existed there too. "What? As if they were lost before?"

Matthew looked away and shrugged. "Maybe."

"Do you honestly think—"

"Yes," Matthew stated strongly. "Yes, I do."

"How do you know what I was going to say?"

"Because I love you and you're predictable…"

Mary sipped at the last of her drink. "Only with you, darling."

The waitress came back and handed the book to Matthew. He took it with a smile before opening the fold and signing his name upon the check. Mary could only stare at him, the corners of her mouth pulling upward in satisfaction. She took yet another sip of her drink before placing the ice-filled glass on the table separating them. "You'd tell me if she were feeling a certain way, right?"

The pair stood and reached for their coats. After Matthew shrugged into his, he helped Mary with the same task.

"I would," Matthew nodded. "But I don't think she'd tell me anything she wouldn't tell you."

Seamlessly, in a show of their many years together, the pair began to walk toward Matthew's car as if it were rehearsed. Matthew pressed his hand to Mary's back and the two navigated away from the restaurant and out onto the busy street.

"I've been thinking about it a lot," Mary tried, breaking through the silence. The grip Matthew had on her hand tightened, allowing himself to walk closer to her now. "I don't know how to show concern without pushing her away. I trust her, I do, I just…what if I'm like this with our children?"

He couldn't help it; Matthew dropped his head back and let out a hearty laugh. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious!" Mary assured. The look she wore showed Matthew, and the rest of the people on the sidewalk, that she was almost offended by his need for clarification.

"Mary, you're her sister. I wouldn't know but I'd guess that this is par for the course. At least she knows you care, right?"

"Yes, Matthew, and I'll care about our children as well but that doesn't mean they won't think I'm overbearing!"

"They'll probably think you're a loon too," he commented casually. "Lord knows I do…"

"Hey!" she called out, nearly hitting him with her purse. "I'm not—"

With two hands to her wrists, Matthew stopped Mary's talking as the two came to a halt just minutes from the cafe. This was a tradition they used to have before their engagement, when both used caffeine deficiency as an excuse to gain several more minutes together. "Darling, of course you're not. But with everything going on lately, I'm just amazed you have time to devote to all of this."

"I'm not sleeping," Mary explained, clearly annoyed by her own words.

"I know, love. It's okay, alright? Sybil's a big girl. I'm sure she doesn't think you're overbearing...I'm sure she's just busy."

~!~

Tom looked up to the board above the counter while he and Sybil took yet another step forward in line. He nudged at Sybil with his elbow causing her to give him a silly face before moving up once more. She was currently lost in her phone — emails, he assumed.

"What are you getting?" she asked as she slid the device into her back pocket.

"I'm thinking just a flat white."

Sybil scrunched her nose up in question. "Really?"

"Did you have a better suggestion? Wait!" he tried, soon after. "Let me guess...you're going to get…" His voice trailed off as he looked to the board. "A dirty chai with an extra shot of espresso."

"And?" Sybil asked, though not yet confirming his prediction.

"Soy milk," he finished.

She grinned. "It's a possibility. Torn between that and an iced coffee."

"Boooo," Tom sang roughly against Sybil's ear. Together the two laughed. "Boring!"

"And your flat white isn't?"

"I've changed my mind," Tom explained. "Someone I know," he emphasized, "had me up late last night and I can barely keep my eyes open so I'm thinking I'll go with a red eye...more caffeine."

Sybil turned away from him. Her cheeks were so high on her face she almost felt her muscles twitch under the strain she was putting them through. Tom accepted their silence because it gave him more time to take her in. There was something about just being here, the altogether calming feeling of existing with Sybil in a setting that was not the hospital. It was like his flat but with far less privacy and both were enjoying how effortless it felt to be with one another. An outing such as this one was once only afforded to them in Ireland. They knew more of Tom's loft than of lines at cafes or cinemas. But Tom missed Sybil, especially the part of herself that she gave to him on the stairs just a few nights before. Now he found himself missing a piece of her he was too stubborn to see all those years ago.

They stepped forward again. "Hey, so I was thinking—"

Sybil's eyes were previously cast down but when she moved up, she glanced to him and her eyes caught on something else. "Oh god…"

Tom paused. "Wow, really? Do you want to at least hear what I was going to say?"

"No," Sybil assured with a hand to his arm. Immediately she turned, using the gesture so she was facing the door behind them.

"You okay?"

"Uh, yeah...can...can we go?"

"What?" In an effort to hide how offended he wanted to be, Tom blinked as if to bring the moment into focus. "Why?"

While Sybil's eyes remained trained on the door, her hands were on Tom's chest now. She looked much like the girl who'd been caught kissing him several nights before but this time he couldn't take his eyes off of her. All around them the cafe continued to exist but now Tom was concerned, and increasingly so the longer she stayed silent. "Syb—"

"Sybil?"

The sound had Tom finally looking up. His mouth dropped but again he was stunned to find Sybil did not shift away from him. Unlike their confrontation with Emilee, Sybil turned quite strongly to the voice and gave a forced smile. "Hi," she tried, now pushing a curl behind her ear out of nervousness.

Tom looked to her then back to the couple before them. Mary and Matthew held hands, various shades of grey completing their office attire blurring them into a single unit. Mary was pale as ever and Tom couldn't help but to glance down to her stomach in search for the news Sybil had shared with him in private. He saw nothing, only the bright gleam of an engagement ring he'd only ever seen in papers before now. Never one for silence, Tom let out a nervous laugh. His chortle jolted Sybil back to the present, causing her to stand stiffly beside him, her eyes finally catching upon Mary's.

"We were actually just talking about you…"

"No we weren't," Sybil assured. She shot Tom a look in warning but even she was powerless against the goofy grin he wore.

"Congrats, by the way," he said simply.

Mary quickly looked to Matthew, then back to Tom. With pursed lips she paused. "On what?" she asked, icely.

"The engagement," Tom explained. His words were slow and appeared to the group much more like a question. "It's been in the papers and things...is there something else to congratulate you on?"

"Sybil," Mary cut in, her voice sounding frantic. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

The neutral line upon which Sybil stood was blown away by the heavy exhale the brunette released. "I'm on break," she explained. Instinctively her body leaned back, away from Mary and Matthew so she was nearly flush against Tom's chest.

"Maybe you should be heading back," Mary suggested.

"Or," Sybil dragged out, "I could stay and enjoy the drink I'm about to get because I have at least twenty minutes left."

"Well," Tom breathed out, "isn't this lovely?" He wished to quell the tension but he spoke merely for Sybil's benefit. "Just like old times…"

"Don't push it," Mary said through gritted teeth. Just earlier Sybil had said the same thing but here it meant more. Here it even hurt.

"Alright, well clearly I am not welcome here. Matthew," Tom said, finally acknowledging the blonde, "it was nice to see you. Mary, I'm going to leave so you can calm down...Bye, Syb," he finished. With his hands to her shoulders he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut at the sensation and her heart fell when she felt him leave the space behind her. "Text me later to let me know you got back safely?"

Mary's eyes certainly pushed him toward the door but they all watched him go. Sybil couldn't hide the ache she felt at being alone without him. Even though the two weren't together, she felt as if she needed him here to help her stand her ground and yet she knew he had walked away so that wouldn't be necessary.

"Sybil, this is ridiculous." Mary let out in Tom's absence.

The youngest Crawley girl's eyes were still locked at the door. Several patrons had walked in and out in a clear sign against Tom returning, but her gaze remained in hopes of a change. When none came, she accepted it with a swallowed gulp of air. "I want to bring Tom to the wedding," she blurted out.

Mary looked to Matthew. He gave a smile, one similar to what Tom wore earlier, but did not share in the laughter that followed. "Oh...you were serious?"

"It's...nevermind. It's okay."

Mary's face turned stoic. "I thought you were bringing Will?"

"I was going to but Gwen doesn't have a date and Will really should be here while Dr. Frye begins to prep everything."

"Prep?"

"For Tom's surgery."

"Is it that serious?"

Sybil nodded. All at once she was a doctor again and not the little girl her sister sometimes confused her for. "Yes, it is, actually."

"Is he going to die?"

"No," Sybil gave calmly. "Though I know you'd enjoy that."

Mary looked away. "Honestly, it wouldn't break _my_ heart…"

"It's your wedding," Sybil shrugged. "I'll be there regardless."

Mary sighed out. "And you're my sister and my best friend," she reminded. "I'll be there for _you_ regardless."

"But you don't want me to take Tom to Scotland?"

Mary forced a smile. If she weren't still holding on to Matthew's hand, it was likely she would have reached out to grip Sybil's shoulder. "No, darling, I don't."

Only silence existed in the aftermath of Mary's disregard. Sybil bit her lip and fought the urge to grab for her phone. She didn't feel it vibrate but she didn't need that or a ring to tell her that Tom had already reached out to ask if she was alright. Even if she did hold the device, Sybil wasn't quite sure what she would say. She didn't know how she felt about the situation; she was still processing the courage she'd mustered to ask Mary in the first place and with each passing moment of noiselessness, she wondered if maybe all of this was happening in her head.

"Now, Matthew is going to walk you back to work and I'm going to take the car back to my office. What do you think?"

Sybil looked to her sister and smiled. Then she turned to Matthew. "We've been given orders."

He took in his soon to be sister-in-law and chuckled. "I suppose we have."

Already Mary was moving to kiss Matthew, making no apology for the way her fingernails danced at the back of his neck. Sometimes she wished he didn't come to see her; it made parting all the more difficult and when the two would arrive home later that evening, both would be far too exhausted to do anything about it. In all honesty, Mary was tired now and as she walked for the door after kissing Sybil's cheek she wondered how she'd make it through the rest of the day without falling asleep.

With his fiance gone, Matthew turned to Sybil and gave her a sympathetic shrug. She shrugged too and was soon looking to the ground again. The two had become so incredibly close but right now things were quiet.

"You don't have to…" Sybil began. She stopped, looking to Matthew with eyes that showed she was shocked by the sound of her own voice. There's no need to say anything. I mean, obviously you're not but I know you want to and you don't have to fill the silence."

Together the pair stepped forward. Sybil's face drained of color when she realized she had in fact kept Tom up last night and now he was on his way to work without a cup of coffee, the latter fact which was also her fault.

"I don't agree with everything your sister does, you know."

Sybil looked to Matthew and smirked. "No, I didn't know that, to be honest."

"I support her," Matthew assured, "and I think she has a right to think and feel what she thinks and feels but I don't always agree."

"Alright."

"But she's struggling. She's stressed about the wedding and the baby and—"

"And me?"

Matthew paused before giving a hesitant nod. He was attempting to cover up a truth Sybil knew all too well. "She worries about you, Sybil. She loves you so much."

"I know she does," Sybil accepted in haste.

Matthew exhaled. "I think if you really truly wanted to bring Tom, she'd let you."

"I don't want to ruin her day. This is everything she's ever wanted. It has to be perfect."

"It will be. It'll be beautiful and the flowers and her dress will be lovely, I'm sure, and they'll be gifts and we'll be in this stunning church. But she really wants everyone to have a good time, you know. She's excited for our families to get together and spend the weekend on the island."

"I'm sure."

"She knows you've been different lately. She may be ignoring it but it's there. It's just hard for her to understand that someone who caused you so much pain is now the same person who has you smiling."

For a short second Sybil contemplated bringing up the past. She thought of making the comparison they'd all drawn too many times — a comparison that perhaps Matthew was already making for himself. But it was feeble, and too many years had passed for any of that to be relevant anymore. They were all practically different people now, same at their cores but existing in a world far beyond Cambridge's scope where change, even amongst resistance, was inevitable. At the same time, Sybil loved Tom back then and was not surprised to find that she still loved him now.

"If it's any consolation, I don't understand it either."

Matthew laughed. "I'll be sure to pass that on."

* * *

Hey! Thanks for the support with the last chapter! I know this is a slow crawl (that's half the fun, right?!) but I promise we're getting there…

x. Elle


	15. If You Ask Me I Will Stay

It did not surprise Sybil that she was the first of her colleagues in the examination room. It did surprise her, however, to see Tom already present. He looked to her, his face held up on his elbow while he scrolled through his phone. His feet were crossed, not swinging - the only thing keeping him from looking like a little boy too annoyed to take a prognosis seriously.

"Don't look so shocked," he commented with eyes that barely flinched to meet hers. As he looked back down to his phone he saw Sybil's face pull into a soft smile.

The two had spoken only briefly since his swift exit at the cafe just the day before. As promised, she texted him from the hospital to tell him she had arrived safely. The message was marked as _Read_ , but Tom didn't respond. Maybe he'd forgotten in the same way she almost did or maybe he just didn't want to talk about it; the conversation they'd inevitably share was one he'd played over in his mind for the past eight years. Her faults could not matter with so many of his own apologies in arrears.

"I'm not—"

"I drove today."

Sybil looked to him. "How was that?"

"A drive into London during rush hour? It was shite." Both shared smirks, and upon seeing Sybil soften before him, Tom continued. "I forgot how awful parking is in this neighborhood."

"Why did you drive then?"

"Because I have chest pains," he stated simply.

Sybil's eyes widened. "What? You—"

"I have chest pains," Tom said again. He sat up and sighed too. "Please don't...it's not…"

Already Sybil was before him, occupying the space between his knees and removing her stethoscope from around her neck. She wore dilated eyes and pale cheeks as she put each earbud in. "How long have you had them?"

"All morning."

"Did you wake up with them?"

Tom paused. When Sybil refused to take her eyes off of his, he looked away then immediately back to her as if ready to face the truth himself. "Yes."

"And did you run?" Again he said nothing. "Tom, did you run?" she asked, this time with far more urgency.

"Yeah, I ran, Syb…" His voice trailed off. He was touched to find Sybil was not angry with him in the way he had imagined or maybe even deserved. In fact, there was no negative emotion behind the volume in her voice. All of her was pure nerves, just a heaving chest hiding a heart of her own — each muscle beating with genuine concern.

Sybil didn't ask for permission. She also didn't apologize when she moved the chestpiece from the pulse point on the inside of his elbow to the bare skin of his chest. Her touch was warm, her fingertips grazing the skin there as her hand rested, holding the cold metal to his breast plate. Tom knew his breathing was erratic, though he doubted it had anything to do with the pain he felt that morning. He was so focused on her skin upon his own that he'd forgotten to breathe and for several fleeting moments, the tightness in his chest failed to exist. Sybil stared, her eyes caught on nothing other than the way his shirt bunched up around her wrist while she continued to use the drum of her stethoscope to search his skin for a more desirable heartbeat. Tom's eyes were lost to nothing as well, but when Sybil paused he looked to her, doing his best to decipher her inaction as either good or bad.

"Hey, uh... Happy Birthday," he said simply.

Sybil looked to him, her eyes now carrying a different sort of worry. "What?" She shuddered to think of what else he remembered. A likely answer danced around in her mind and she was terrified by the sound of it. _Everything_ , it chanted.

"It's your birthday."

Ever so slowly she nodded. All the while her hand remained pressed to his chest, giving her leverage as she leaned in, ready to thank him with lips that lacked words. Tom leaned in too, even going as far as to reach out for her hip. In seeing how easy of a task this was, Tom realized how close they were, an even more apparent fact when the door behind them opened and they were forced to part. Tom's shirt rolled back down his chest as Sybil now forced a smile that she quickly shared with Ben before devoting the rest of it to the tiled floor below.

Tom blinked his eyes shut, not necessarily angry at their lost moment but now working to concentrate on the pain he'd felt just minutes before. There were times that morning where he had nearly doubled over in agony then others where the intensity of the tightness had him breathless. Currently he felt little, only the way the skin of his chest was warm in the wake of Sybil's touch.

No one said anything, though Tom (being far more confident than Sybil) looked to Ben and saw the way he was formulating an excuse for his awkward entrance. In reality, he needed none. Their meeting was meant to start soon and he'd need far more apology if he weren't there.

Dr. Frye and William arrived almost immediately after. William took his place next to Ben, using his time to stare at Sybil, his gaze asking for an explanation for her own position in the room. Her arms were now crossed over her chest but her stethoscope hung limply around her neck. She tugged the item off and wrapped it back around the collar of her lab coat. Tom watched as the action motivated her across the room to where she now stood with the boys. He studied her, his stares thinning as he attempted to detect how she felt about what failed to happen.

As Tom did, Dr. Frye took him in. Though the surgeon had turned to the desk to begin looking at some of Tom's most recent X-rays, he still noticed the way Tom's t-shirt was wrinkled at the center and how Sybil only moved when the examination room reached full capacity. Sybil was avoiding Tom's glance and now Tom had returned to his phone, drowning himself in emails he had already replied to long before Sybil entered the room.

"Are you coming?"

Cautiously, Tom looked to the group. Ben also seemed to be surprised by the question and he looked to William as if to ask for clarification. What he received instead was reiteration. "Are you coming?" William asked more slowly. "Out tonight," he explained to Ben. "For Sybil's birthday."

Though she stood before William and Ben, Sybil looked away when called upon. She knew Tom was listening and she was still raw from their almost-kiss that she didn't dare glance at him, much less extend the invitation his way. Similarly, Tom was also avoiding eye contact. He wasn't fearful of Sybil's disregard; he understood and even welcomed it. He assumed moments like the one they'd just shared were destined to only occur in private. This was their default setting — hidden away from the world.

Tom didn't hear Ben's response. He assumed he had agreed to go, a concept that was easier to believe the longer Sybil averted her eyes. She only looked up when the meeting began and Dr. Frye turned to Tom to ask him how he was feeling.

There was no pause or hesitation of any kind. Tom smiled and shrugged. "Perfectly fine."

~!~

Sybil was so furious with Tom that she darted out of the examination room just as soon as they were dismissed. She had felt the beat of his chest and saw the way his skin was flushed and clammy. It was likely his palpitations had diminished, but she knew that if he was having an episode, they wouldn't cease forever. But she couldn't call him on this, nor could she tell Dr. Frye everything she knew. To do so would have been to admit other things, giving him emotions she had yet to say aloud for fear of them becoming truth.

Tom remained behind. While Dr. Frye put all of his X-rays back into their file, Tom slowly picked up his bag and flung it over his shoulder. Each man moved without haste, as if avoiding their next destination and when Tom finally made it to the door, Dr. Frye called him back in.

"Tom, I wanted to speak with you."

His eyebrows piqued as he turned back to the doctor. "Ya?"

"I've...how do I say this?" He exhaled as the thought came to him. "You know how it would be frowned upon for you to have a relationship with a student?"

Tom immediately knew where this conversation was headed and his shoulders fell in early defeat. "Uh, yeah, of course," he said, now rubbing at his eyes.

"I don't know if this was something maybe I should have gone over with you. Really, I guess I should have just said it in front of everyone but I thought—"

"I know the rules," Tom assured gruffly. "I'm sorry, but, uh, what are you getting at?"

Dr. Frye sighed. "I've just noticed the way you and Sybil are—"

"The way we are?" he repeated.

"Sybil told me you two knew one another a long time ago and honestly, I should have pulled her from the case then but she assured me it wouldn't be an issue—"

"And has it been?"

"Well, not exactly."

"Then?"

"I still can't have you two fraternizing."

Tom let out a scoff. "Fraternizing?"

"Listen, Tom, this is awkward for me too. I get it, Sybil's a beautiful girl and—"

"We're not fraternizing. I'm...I'm sorry if we've done something to make you think I'm lying. We knew each other once and now she's my doctor and that's it. I mean, we see each other a lot now so we've naturally relaxed a bit but it's nothing more than that."

Dr. Frye paused. He studied Tom's face and the way his hand held a tight fisted grip upon the strap of his rucksack. "You know she could be suspended, right? A lot of who Sybil is going to be in this field rides on this success of this surgery. She's worked incredibly hard to be where she is."

"And she's still the smartest one you've got."

"That might be true, but I still expect my team to be respectful."

"Well maybe I'm the ass then," Tom stated, expelling with it a heavy sigh. "I probably say inappropriate things or—"

"Tom, no," Dr. Frye said with eyes that begged to be believed. "It's the both of you." Tom looked away and Dr. Frye continued. "I spoke to her when this began and now I'm speaking with you. Just please be careful. For the both of you."

~!~

The more she thought about it, the less Sybil cared about Tom's lie. Now she only cared about what it concealed and she did so with a mind that was consumed by him: the tightness in his chest and all the breathlessness they'd shared because of it. Sybil didn't invite Tom out but she wanted too and if she was upset at him for anything, it was for not realizing that.

While everyone else stood in line waiting to be granted access to the nightclub, Sybil crossed the street to make a phone call. She'd admitted this was her intended task and as William and Gwen watched her go they wondered if she would have elaborated on the man on the other end of the line if Ben wasn't with them.

It was chilly, causing Sybil to wrap her arms around herself even as she held her phone to her ear. It rang and then rang again and just before she thought it would cut to his voicemail, he answered. "Hello?"

"It's me," she said simply, almost hurt he was not aware.

"I...I know. I...I know why you're calling and—"

"Do you?"

"I think so. You're pissed I lied to Dr. Frye."

"I am," Sybil confirmed softly.

"I didn't...maybe I just needed to breathe. The palpitations were barely there after awhile. So I wasn't lying, I just didn't think the pain was significant enough."

"Well how is it now?"

"Now?" Tom paused. He looked around his flat to where a beer and a carry-out container sat upon his coffee table. "It's fine. I feel fine," he promised.

"You worry me," Sybil admitted effortlessly. "You can't lie about that. Or keep it hidden. It's important and that goes beyond your surgery. All of that's really serious, Tom, and—"

"Syb, Syb...Syb!" he tried, doing his best to calm her down. "I'm sorry, alright? Really, I didn't think I was lying. Please go enjoy your birthday, alright?"

She looked to the pavement, kicking at a crack in the concrete. "We're at Cargo," she explained. Her explanation sounded far more like an invitation. "There's this new band playing."

"Are they any good?" Tom asked, humoring her.

"I'm not sure. I've just learned Gwen's fucked the lead but I don't think that says much about their music. I didn't really know they existed before tonight. I just told Gwen and Will to pick a place."

Tom paused. "Well enjoy it, alright? You deserve to relax a bit. And it's your birthday so take advantage of that and get as many free drinks as you can."

"I'm a female, Tom. That's typically a given."

"Right," he nodded. "I'll talk to you soon."

Sybil inhaled. She was ready to respond but was unsure of what she'd say. But Tom didn't care, or maybe he did and that's why he hung up so quickly, leaving both of them equally ignorant.

There was a sigh as Sybil put her phone back into her bag. She looked both ways before crossing the street, her feet picking up to a slight jog as she neared the line. The smiles Gwen and Will wore asked her about the phone call and when she averted her eyes, her answer was clear.

~!~

The group remained together for the first hour but separated when the band began to play. Gwen headed backstage and William ran into a friend and insisted on introducing her to Ben. When they'd all left, Sybil was lost in conversation with a man that sat at the adjacent VIP table. He was attractive and he made her laugh but the minute they were alone his respect for her vanished, shining bright lights on his intentions in the otherwise dim nightclub. The drinks Sybil was sipping at began to multiply, giving her the confidence to slip out of the conversation and head out onto the dancefloor. The vodka shots she did with Gwen thereafter allowed her to dance more freely and she cared not of the perspiration dotting her skin or the way her hair, previously straight, was now frizzy and piled messily on top of her head.

Her behavior made sense until suddenly it didn't. All at once the only thing she was able to understand was just how dizzy she felt and how the way she moved made each limb feel heavy as the room around her began to haze. In a way it was oddly sobering for Sybil to realize just how intoxicated she had become.

"Hey," she tried. Sybil felt disconnected from her body, wondering if what she saw and heard was life as it truly was. "I'm gonna head out…"

Gwen blinked, showing Sybil the difference in the number of drinks the best friends had consumed. "What? Why?"

"I'm tired."

"Tired? Syb, darling, it's your birthday! We're having fun, right?"

She nodded quickly. "Yeah," she slurred — the first sign of her inebriation.

"Well how are you getting back? You can't walk…"

"No, I'll..I'll find a cab," she shrugged.

"Sybil, really...this is silly, babe."

Though the brunette lacked control, she stepped into Gwen to give her a lazy hug. Gwen was forced to carry Sybil's weight but couldn't help but to smile when she saw the relief in Sybil's face as they pulled away. In a way it made her sad; Sybil was doing her best lately to invest in her own happiness but there was still a large part of her that acted with everyone else's wants in mind. Gwen only saw it now and was disappointed in herself for ever believing otherwise. It was too clear now that this was not how Sybil wanted to spend her birthday.

"Well let me get you a cab," Gwen tried.

"I can—"

"Sybil, c'mon, I'm not letting you walk out of here alone."

Gwen placed her arm around Sybil's midsection and began to direct them out of the crowd. It was a show of affection but she also felt the action was necessary with Sybil being so heavy on her feet. When they emerged from the dancefloor, Gwen focused only on the door ahead. Her mind calculated whether or not she should leave Sybil alone, but gave up when she realized her best friend would give her no other choice.

"Gwen!" she heard. The sound stopped their walking and as she turned back toward the voice she noticed how Sybil continued to stare straight ahead, her eyes transfixed on the door.

Ben approached. "Everything okay?"

"Birthday girl wants to go home," she explained.

"Is she okay?"

"I'm fine!" Sybil let out, finally looking to the pair.

Ben's eyes widened, almost in amusement. He turned back to Gwen. "Do you want me to take her?"

"What?"

"I'm...this really isn't my scene. I can't find William and I'd rather not spend another twenty quid on cheap liquor."

Gwen paused, her eyes from Ben to Sybil and then back again. "How much have you had?"

"One drink," he admitted. "It was enough. Trust me."

There was still a conflict occurring within Gwen as she thought of what Sybil would think if she allowed Ben to bring her home. But she knew her best friend and in considering Sybil originally wished to be alone, she figured it wouldn't matter much either way. Gwen wondered if Sybil would even remember any of this in the morning. "Yeah...uh, do you mind?"

"Not at all. I didn't get her anything. It's the least I can do."

Gwen smirked. "Alright, uh...yeah," she settled. "She's...here," she suggested, "I'll help you get her outside."

Their exit was a blur. When they emerged the line they once stood in had dwindled down to a small group having their IDs checked. Several other groups stood around smoking cigarettes, all of them existing in stark contrast with Sybil.

"Gwennnn," she whined. "I'm fine!"

"Sybil, darling, you're...Ben's leaving anyway," she explained. "We're going to get a cab and you'll be home in no time. You can split the fare," she attempted. Sybil said nothing and when the cab arrived she merely hugged Gwen. "Can you text me when you get in?"

Sybil blinked. "Sure," she said, knowing just as well as Gwen did that the promise was already a broken one.

Ben held the door to the cab and the two carefully helped Sybil inside. Sybil moved as if she was irritated by their help, too drunk to realize just how much she needed it.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Yeah, definitely," Ben confirmed. "Really, it's not that big of a deal. I was thinking of heading out anyway. I can...I'll text you when she gets in." There was a beat of silence. "She's not going to remember," he stated causing both of them to share knowing grins.

"Well thank you."

"Stop thanking me."

"Oooh!" Gwen let out as the idea came to her. "Our address," she sputtered. "I'll text it to you."

"Great. I'll see you later?"

Gwen nodded. "Sure. And thanks again. I really appreciate it."

Ben said nothing and only gave a small wave to Gwen when he was finally in the cab and the vehicle began to drive away. Inside Sybil dropped her head to his shoulder. She thought briefly of checking her phone but her concentration shifted, focusing instead on the meter on the dashboard.

"Where to?" the driver inquired.

Ben looked to his phone. As he pulled up Gwen's text message, Sybil began to speak. The address she gave was not the same one he read on his cellphone screen and the way she delivered the information tricked Ben into believing that maybe she wasn't that intoxicated after all.

But he said nothing, doing his best now to give Sybil her desired space while also ensuring her wellbeing.

"You didn't have to come," she said quickly, as if to ask that he stop staring.

"I know that. But like Gwen said, I was leaving too—"

"Were you?" she mumbled.

"I was," he chuckled.

Sybil looked out the window but quickly snapped her head back in his direction. "Why don't you have a girlfriend?"

Ben chuckled. "I don't know. Why don't you have a boyfriend?"

Sybil shrugged. "You're all assholes," she conceded.

"Well maybe that's why I don't have a girlfriend," Ben said, knowing his words would soon be forgotten. "Girls don't like assholes."

"You're not an asshole," Sybil tried, her speech slow. "I mean now," she corrected. "You're not an asshole _now_...anymore. Some girl would be lucky to have you."

Slowly Ben nodded. "Yeah…" As she glanced back toward the road ahead, he continued to take her in. If she were to remember anything, he wished it would be this. At the same time, Ben knew she had already forgotten her own words, especially now as the cab came to a stop.

"Thanks," she muttered. Sybil hopped out of the cab, a newfound energy overcoming her as she set her eyes upon the building before her.

Ben was speechless. He took the structure in as well, focusing on the doorman and the way the shrubbery out front was meticulously cut. He had already known that this place was not Sybil's home, but all was reiterated when he saw the neighborhood and was able to confirm his own suspicions. As he watched Sybil head inside, he retrieved his cellphone and sent Gwen a quick text message.

"Good to go," it said.

Surprisingly, Gwen responded almost immediately. "Great."

"She...we didn't go to your flat," he explained. His fingers hesitated in the same way his voice would have if the two were face to face.

Gwen swallowed. "Where are you?" There was something unsettling about the thought that flashed in Gwen's mind, one that had her instantly regretting not bringing Sybil home.

"I'm in the cab," Ben explained. "Sybil went to Tom's."

~!~

Tom was grateful he had ordered out. There was little clean up, giving him ample time to lounge on his sofa, waiting for a text from Sybil while simultaneously wondering where it was Emilee had gone for the night. He knew it was likely for the latter matter to be resolved first.

Tired and somewhat frustrated, he clicked off the television and moved to stand. He grabbed for his empty beer bottle and brought it to the sink. It clinked as it settled against the metal basin, echoing the sound of his phone vibrating in his pocket. As he reached for the device he was made to pause again, this time alarmed by a knock at the door. Tom paced rather quickly, wondering now if he'd find his sister sitting in the hallway because she'd forgotten her key. Emilee's mind was elsewhere lately, and becoming all the less present with each passing day.

Tom flung the door open. "Em—"

Standing there, Sybil's eyes bore into Tom, her features relaxing as she took him in. "Hi," she whispered.

He could smell the alcohol on her, all of it mixing with the scent of cigarettes and stale nightclub air. "Hey," he tried, still so stunned.

"I…"

"No, it's fine," he said, now opening the door so Sybil could walk in. She did and he shut the door behind her, his eyes observing how her demeanor changed once they were alone. "You...you okay?"

"Mhm," Sybil nodded. She bit her lip before spinning away from him. She moved without restraint, easily guiding herself up the stairs toward Tom's bedroom.

Tom had no other option but to follow, motivated now not by concern but by curiosity. It had been only a few hours since he'd seen her and even less time since they'd spoke. Sybil was clearly in a different state now, but he missed her all the same and he couldn't take his eyes off of her as she entered his bedroom. She sat on his bed and Tom blinked, his breathing ragged, as he watched her remove her shoes. Sybil was far too lost in the alcohol she had consumed to pay him much attention. This was especially apparent when she shrugged out of her jacket and began to reach for the hem of her dress.

Tom swallowed. He knew he should have stopped her but he remained, nervous in an immature way that made him doubt all of the intimate moments they'd once shared. "Syb…"

It was a feeble warning. The garment was dragged up, revealing the underwear Sybil wore, and all that failed to cover her chest. The lace material was nearly the same shade as her skin, causing Tom's eyes to fall to her breasts before inevitably looking away. With a dry throat he blinked, doing his best to regain control. Sybil was none the wiser. Already she was pulling back the covers on his bed and moving to slip underneath.

There was a moment of silence, one far more empty than the others before it. A decision was made and Tom moved to his closet, reappearing with evidence of that very choice.

"Where are you going?" Sybil asked. Her voice was clear again, as if the hurt she felt at the thought of him abandoning her cleared her mind.

"The couch," he explained.

Sybil picked her head up from his pillow. All of her melted into his mattress, but as she moved, the sheet fell and she was exposed to him once more. "You're not going to sleep with me?" she asked. Tom blinked, his heart racing as he searched for the meaning behind her question. "It's my birthday," Sybil reminded.

"I know, Syb, but—"

"But what?" she spat. "Don't you want me?"

The air around them turned static and for a moment Tom swore he heard Sybil's heart beating. Slowly he shut his eyes, as if to ask that her question disappear. He wondered if even in her drunken state, she realized how ridiculous her words were. Even as he continued to clutch the blanket and pillow, keeping a consistent distance from a near-naked Sybil, Tom hoped she knew his answer.

"Syb, I...I can't stay in here with you like this."

"What?" she asked, her voice dragging. "Am I sloppy?"

"You're not…" He exhaled. "You're not sloppy, Syb, I just…" He gave up. "Do you want a shirt?"

"Do you want me to have a shirt?"

 _No_ , he thought. "I think it'd be a good idea," he admitted.

Sybil flopped back down against the bed, burying her head into the space between Tom's pillows. When she heard no movement, she mumbled against the mattress to stop any from occurring. "Give me a stupid shirt."

There was rustling. Sybil didn't pick her head up. She was far too comfortable wrapped up in his duvet, the smell of him now upon her skin as she settled further into his sheets.

"Here," Tom said, offering up a soft grey v-neck.

Sybil opened an eye and looked to him. In a way he wanted to laugh at her, loving how even in such a raw state she still managed innocence. She huffed dramatically. "Stupid," she muttered from beneath the cotton material as she pulled it over her head.

When she was covered, Tom finally let out a breath. He placed the items he carried on a nearby chair and walked to stand on the other side of the bed. Sybil felt the air shift and she turned over, now blinking as she watched him take off his glasses and reach for the light. He wore far more clothing than she was used to, and the thought of them so close and yet so covered up, had Sybil's mind obtaining clarity.

"Is it okay that I'm here?"

Tom's gaze narrowed. "Yeah...yeah, of course. Did you have a good birthday?"

Sybil shrugged. "It was s'okay," she slurred. Boldly, she continued. "It's better now."

Tom rolled his lips inward, hesitant to enjoy such a lovely admission. "I—"

"I wanted you there, y'know."

He nodded. "I know that now."

"You're here now," she whispered.

Tom paused. All of him wished to envelop her but he remained, her words stilling his bones. "Yeah, Syb...I'm here."

~!~

Sybil didn't stir when Tom moved about his room before going out for a run. He was happy for this fact, thinking to the morning before when she'd scolded him for exercising with his health was already compromised. Oddly enough, even in his worry for her, he slept well and felt much better today and a run seemed sensible when there was a girl in his bed — a girl he loved but could not touch.

When she did wake up, Sybil immediately felt the pressure behind her eyes. The pain was suddenly so intense that she wondered how it was she was sleeping so soundly just moments before. She blinked, taking snapshots of the room around her. It wasn't her own but she recognized it well: the dark colors of the walls and the soft bed she practically disappeared in. Not feeling bold enough to pick up her head yet, her eyes also took in the glass of water and bottle of aspirin that sat on the bedside table before her. She wore his shirt and the air smelled of his aftershave. Sybil was so incredibly aware of her own presence here that she was reminded of how little she remembered from the night before. This caused her to sit up, immediately regretting the decision as her head continued to throb and her eyes caught on her dress, now laying on the same chair Tom had put the blanket and pillow the night before.

"There she is," Tom practically sang, the mirth in his voice causing Sybil to quickly turn her head in his direction.

She swallowed, hard, especially as he got closer. He wore only a towel around his waist and was so fresh out of the shower that several droplets of water still cascaded down his back. Once again she looked down to the t-shirt she wore, his shirt, before returning her gaze to his naked form. "Did…" Her voice trailed off as she struggled to find a sensitive way to explain herself. "Did you take my dress off?"

Tom looked to her. There was a scoff laying dormant in the back of his throat, but the way that she forced a smile when his grin demanded she rethink her question had it remaining suppressed.

"I was afraid of that," Sybil accepted. "I'm sorry if…" Again she was speechless. "For whatever I did. I'm sorry."

Tom smirked again before disappearing into the bathroom. From behind the door, she could hear him jumping into a pair of jeans before threading a belt through the loops around his waist. "There's nothing to be sorry about."

"I made you stay in here, right?"

Tom emerged. "You did."

"Sorry…"

He chuckled. "It was hardly the toughest thing I've done this week," he joked.

Sybil forced a smile. "Was I…"

Tom loudly shut one of the drawers to his dresser. He carried in his hand a t-shirt much like the one she currently wore. "You don't remember any of it?"

"Barely."

"Would it make you feel any better if I told you what happened?"

"No," she said honestly.

Tom sighed and pulled the cotton shirt over his head. Once again he was back at his dresser, this time moving to put on his watch. He could feel Sybil staring but he was blind to the reason. He hardly wanted her to leave, and yet he didn't know how to say that when she insisted upon silence.

"It's not going to make me feel better," Sybil tried, "but I'd like to hear it...what happened, I mean," she clarified.

Tom was checking his phone and in hearing her address him he tossed the device on the nearby settee and walked to her. He grabbed for the bottle of aspirin on the end table and began to unscrew the cap. In his hand he popped out two tablets and casually handed them to Sybil.

"That bad?" Sybil asked, inevitably allowing them to share small smiles.

"You had a good time, I think," he said cautiously.

Sybil took the pills from his hand and swallowed them with the help of the water he'd also set out for her. As she did, Tom sat toward the edge of the bed, leaning back on his arms as he took her in, causing all of this to feel so comfortable.

"I took a cab with Ben," Sybil explained. "I remember that."

"Yeah?" Tom questioned with a raised brow. "How was that?"

Sybil looked away. "I don't really remember."

"Well I don't know why you came over—"

"Did you not want me here?" There was panic in her voice.

Tom turned his head toward the window as if he didn't want her to see the sigh he expelled. "Syb, I...what am I supposed to say to that?"

"Did you not call me or text? Were we not talking?"

"No," Tom laughed. "You just showed up."

"I'm sorry…"

"It's fine. It was...honestly, it was amusing."

"Did I say anything? I mean, how did this happen?"

"This?" Tom asked. Even he was slightly unaware of exactly what she was referring to. "You didn't say much. You just headed for the stairs."

"Your bed looked comfy the other night," Sybil explained, doing her best to laugh all of it off. "And I'm sure I was just tired.

Tom grinned too. "Yeah, Syb, I'm sure that's it."

"Well, it is comfortable. I can confirm that now."

"How was your birthday? Do you remember anything from the club?"

"I remember calling you. I remember my first drink. I remember dancing with Gwen."

"Was the band any good?" Tom joked.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Sybil's mouth. "I don't remember." She dropped her head down into her hands causing her curls to curtain around her face, hiding her from him. "God, I must have been such a mess...I'm so embarrassed."

Tom stood now. "Why are you embarrassed? Really, Syb, it wasn't that big of a deal."

She tossed off the covers and moved so her legs were pointed toward the floor in an effort to show Tom her intentions. "I'll...let me just get changed and I can go."

"Go?"

"I'm sure you—"

Tom couldn't admit that he wanted her in his bed, nor could he acknowledge just how insane it felt when she finally was there. But he could say other things and could manipulate words in hopes that they'd sound the same. "I was just about to head downstairs to make breakfast. I was going to see if you wanted to stay."

"Yeah, I'll stay."

* * *

I feel like there were a million errors in that but I wanted to get this posted as a thank you for those of you who have reviewed and supported this story. I hope all of your initial frustrations are beginning to pay off. Patience has its rewards, I promise!

Thanks for reading!

x. Elle


	16. Treacherous

"I'm calling her!"

"No, Tom! You're not!"

"Then I'm calling the police!"

"No, you're not doing that either!"

If a large wooden door did not separate Tom and Emilee from the outside world, their current argument would have surely caused concern for all of their neighbors. That being said, it was unlikely that the volume of their voices had anything to do with the floor's already present worry; just minutes before there was screaming and several loud thuds as Tom forcefully pulled Patrick off his sister, sending him running. He left with a broken nose and a split lip and maybe a few fractured ribs beneath all of the bruising on his chest. Tom's motions were anything but apologetic and all of him still buzzed with the adrenaline of the incident.

"Fuck, Em! Pick one! You need help!"

Both siblings were breathless. Emilee paced, her hands erratic as they moved to push her hair off her face and then rest on her hips as she rejected Tom's offer of help. "I don't...it's fine!"

"Nothing about this is fine, Emilee!" Tom roared. "Your daughter is scared to death and your face is a color purple I've never even seen. This isn't just going to go away in the morning."

"Let me face it then," she seethed. Tom wondered if it was anger or embarrassment that had her so upset. Or maybe not much had changed since her teenage years and she was mostly just sad at the mere thought of still loving someone so unkind.

"You could have a concussion, you know."

"What? You spend your mornings in a hospital and suddenly you're a doctor?" she spat with narrowed eyes. "Or you fuck a doctor and the information is passed that way?"

Tom stepped into her, his pupils dilated — incensed by all she was inferring and simultaneously reducing he and Sybil to. "First off, fuck you," he said, now with a firm finger pointed directly at her. "Secondly, we're not sleeping together."

"But it's midnight and you'll call and she'll come over, no questions asked?"

"Yeah, she will," Tom admitted. "But stop making this about me!" he tried, in hopes of shifting the focus back on the devastation still surrounding them.

"It is about you!" Emilee insisted. "Here we go again, Tom! I'm the fuck up and your life is working out just how you always wanted it."

"It's not though, Em! Rory is a mess and you _look_ like a fucking mess and Pat's lucky I didn't do more than punch him because I swear if I had a gun—"

Emilee threw her arms up in the air as if to ask that her brother be more sensible. "Oh, please! You wouldn't have done shit!"

"You want to bet?" he challenged. Maybe he still that teenage boy who had burst into his sister's room to find her drunk and unconsenting. Maybe both of them would always hold onto the people they once were back in Kinsale— him out of guilt and her out of longing.

"Stop it! You're being childish." There was almost a laugh in her dismissal. Somehow Emilee was even better than Tom at hiding her feelings with humor. She had far bigger problems to shade and had spent many more years making excuses for things she could not control.

Tom moved for the stairs. Rory was already in her room. It was she who had caused Pat to momentarily take his hands off of Emilee and now she who, still saying nothing, demanded a certain amount of quiet in the home.

"I'm calling Sybil!" he let out again. This time he was not facing Emilee but he threw up a hand as if to stop her from speaking. Already his phone was out of his pocket and his fingers worked to type a brief message.

 _Can you come over? I need you._

Emilee leaned on the banister of the staircase and called up to her brother. "What part of 'no' was confusing to you?"

Tom was at the landing now, the same place he'd kissed Sybil only a week ago. "Maybe I want to see her!" he revealed with outstretched arms. There was a certain innocence in his voice that was even comforting for him to hear. "Maybe she calms me down and I want her here and this has absolutely nothing to do with you."

"Well don't you dare tell her about any of this!"

"You mean my problems? The things I'm involved with that directly affect me?" Tom yelled, holding his hand to his chest to emphasize his role in all of this.

"This is my problem! Not yours! I don't need your protection!"

"I punched Pat to get him the fuck off of you but I also did it because no one on this planet gives me as much rage! It's your problem and you're my family so it's my problem too!"

Emilee scoffed. "Am I supposed to say thank you?"

"No!" Tom said. His fury was dwindling, disappearing as he silently prayed for the arguing to stop. He wondered if they'd be elderly and still having this discussion on what the other deserves. "I didn't do it for recognition! But it would be fucking nice if you didn't reprimand me for it!"

"Fine! Whatever!" Emilee tossed out in defeat. "Go call your girlfriend!"

Tom's fist clenched and as he let it go, he released a steady exhale as well. "I know you think I live to spite you, but I really don't. I work my ass off and I do what I can to keep you and Rory safe. If you think I want anything but your happiness, you're out of your mind."

There was a pause, a slight break where Tom thought that maybe Emilee was beginning to see his side of things. It was interrupted by a knock at the door, essentially pardoning Emilee from even accepting that as an option.

"Come in!" Tom yelled. He did not take his eyes off of Emilee and he watched as she puckered her lips in distaste. She was embarrassed but she remained in the foyer, her arms crossed over her chest as she began to pace in an effort to hide her face.

Sybil entered, and did so quite noisily. She had no way of knowing what type of situation she was coming into and she cared only of Tom and the urgency in his text to her. Soon, however, her concern shifted. Emilee felt the brunette staring at her and she felt she had no other choice but to glare back. Even amongst her pain she forced a smile. Sybil's mouth fell, wondering what Branson sibling she should go to first.

"What is…" Her voice trailed off as she looked to Tom. By the time she turned back to Emilee, the blonde had disappeared. Her absence was marked by the sound of a slamming door, leaving Sybil without a decision to make. "Should I be here?" she blurted out.

"Yeah, I…I need you." There it was again: a truth in a room full of them, the others mostly unpleasant.

The cab driver had dropped Sybil at the end of the street and she nearly knocked over the doorman on her way into Tom's building. Such a proclamation had her frantic, but soon she was near him, her hands pressed to his back in an attempt to guide them upstairs. Just as the Cambridge loft had once been, Tom's bedroom was becoming refuge for them and when the door was shut and locked behind them, all of Sybil softened into him.

"Are you okay?" she asked with her palms pressed flat to his cheeks. She hadn't even seen his hands or the blood stains on his shirt. Sybil only saw the way he looked so panicked and how, in rare form, he had little to say. For this reason she continued to move her fingers upon his skin, hoping her touch would coax him back to the present so he could help her make sense of it all. "Tom?"

"What?" he asked, finally looking to her. Her presence had definitely brought him peace and when he realized how close she insisted on being he fell back to sit on the bed and was surprised to find Sybil still standing before him, clutching his face. "Oh, yeah, I…" He closed his eyes in an attempt to regroup. "Thanks for coming. I just thought—"

Sybil only nodded. "Of course." Her promise caused Tom to question what it was Sybil thought she was here for. She held onto him like a girlfriend, but the way her eyes now scanned him up and down reminded him of the reserved doctor he saw each morning before work. He wanted both versions of her and he wondered if the two were able to coexist, especially when he was involved. Or maybe they already had and that was the problem.

Through the silence Sybil continued to study him. Her hands fell from his face to his shoulders, where she took a considerable amount of time caressing the skin of his neck as she fought to drop her forehead down to his. "You okay?" He nodded and in Sybil's acceptance, she picked her head up. "Is _she_ okay?"

"No, and no," Tom said. He released a small laugh and the sound, while forced, had Sybil smiling. "I'll be fine," he assured stoically, "but with her, I'm not so sure."

Sybil looked over her shoulder toward the door. "Should I—"

Tom gave her a smile, his first of the night. "No. She didn't want me to call you but you're here for me now so..."

"Yeah, I am," she confirmed with a whisper. Then: "Of course I am," came even more softly. "Always." Her eyes continued to dart about. "What can I do?"

"Can you look at my hand?" he asked simply, now raising his arm as proof. "I honestly think I've broken something."

Sybil reached for his fingers. She held his hand and began to inspect his skin, first the rawness of his knuckles and then the dried blood that concealed bruises on his palm. "Yeah, you've broken whatever you punched," she observed, now holding one of his hands up as if she were studying an x-ray. "Was it a person, or?"

"Pat was here."

"Here?" Sybil asked with wide eyes. "In your home?"

"Unfortunately."

"What the hell was he doing?"

"Luring Em into a false sense of security before inevitably beating the shit out of her."

Sybil paused. "Bloody hell…"

"It's fine," Tom brushed off, mostly out of pride. "I mean, it's not, but it's taken care of now."

"Where is he?"

"He left."

"Well are they safe here?" The 'they' she spoke of was very clearly Emilee and Rory. Her indifference to her and Tom's safety spoke magnitudes for her compassion.

"Yeah. They're fine. Rory and I came home and he ran. He's in trouble back home so I'm going to put a call to the consulate in the morning and they'll come pick him up...wherever he is."

Slowly Sybil nodded as if trying to piece this all together. "Does he live here now?"

"I'd hope not. But that would explain where the fuck Em's been these past couple of weeks."

Sybil shared a sympathetic smile. "Is this the story that wasn't yours to tell?"

"Yeah, essentially. But I'm taking ownership now because I can only feel two out of my five fingers."

Sybil giggled. "Yeah, we're going to have to amputate these…"

Tom's eyes bulged. "What?"

There was more laughter and though Tom was in pain, he couldn't help but to grin at her. "I'm kidding," Sybil dragged out. "You'll be fine. Let's just get some ice on this."

"That's going to hurt."

Sybil paused. "Yeah, you big baby, it will." She stepped back now and moved for the door. "You know what else won't be pleasant? Your heart surgery. Consider this practice."

Tom stood and blindly began to follow her as if intrigued by her sarcasm. "You're being bossy."

"You used to like when I was bossy."

"I mean, I'm not complaining…"

The two shared mischievous smiles as they headed for the stairs. The home had returned to a certain state of calm, allowing both to relax when they finally made it to the kitchen. All the while Tom was warmed by Sybil's memory as she lead the way.

When they arrived, Sybil immediately turned back to Tom, the two nearly colliding. She held his hands in hers, softly, so as to not exacerbate their already present injuries. Though she originally looked pleased, her face now fell. As her eyes met his once more, they begged in a way that had Tom already agreeing to what she was about to propose. "I really would like to check on Emilee. Her eyes looked pretty bad…"

"I don't think—"

"She could have a concussion."

Tom's eyes widened in a way that amused Sybil. "That's what I said!" he exclaimed like a student surprised to find he had done well on a test.

Sybil smirked. "You're spending too much time in the hospital."

"I'm spending too much time with you," Tom said, his voice low.

"Did you want me to go then?" Sybil asked with a thumb thrown back over her shoulder.

Their flirtatious nature floated away as Tom thought about how much better he felt with her near. "Please don't," he said, swallowing. It was his turn to beg.

"I need supplies," Sybil tried in an attempt to change the subject. "Uhh, gauze maybe. I guess bandages would do…" she said, her voice trailing off as her mind ignored Tom to instead focus on his battered hands. "Do you have surgical spirit?"

Tom thought for a moment before nodding. "Yeah."

When he didn't move Sybil smirked. "Do you want to go get all of that for me?"

He laughed as if to dismiss his nerves. "Yeah, of course…"

Tom left, leaving Sybil to rest upon the counter and wait for his return. She stared blankly at the cabinets above the stove, her gaze momentarily lost to space. As she came out of the trance, she grabbed for her phone from her pocket. Already William had texted her.

"Where are you?" he asked with an unnecessary amount of question marks.

"Had something that needed my immediate attention."

"Something or someone?"

"Someone's something," she explained, trying to make a joke. As the text floated up onto her screen she quickly moved to correct it. Unfortunately by then, William had already responded.

"Wow, Sybil."

"Tom's got himself into a bit of an incident," she explained in one message before sending several more. "It's not like that but I won't be home tonight. He just needs some help."

"Some help I'm sure only you can give him."

She rolled her eyes. "Ha Ha. Not funny. This is actually medical related."

"Is he okay?"

"He will be. We'll figure it out. But it's not…" Sybil erased part of what she had written. "There's no use in mentioning any of this to Dr. Frye," she typed instead. "It's not about his heart or anything."

"Of course."

Will had questions but when Sybil did not elaborate he put his phone down. As Sybil slid her own phone back into her pocket, Tom returned. "Supplies," he said, grinning. He dropped all of the items onto the counter. Sybil sorted them as he did. In addition to the items she'd asked for, he also brought an elastic bandage, some scissors, a tube of antibacterial cream, and a washcloth.

"You sure you didn't go to med school?" Sybil asked causing Tom to chuckle. "Do you want to sit?"

"Is it going to be that painful?"

"I don't know. Everything we've done on you so far has been pretty noninvasive. I really don't know what your pain threshold is like." Sybil blinked, her eyes practically challenging him with a simple look. "Alright then. Let's wash these hands." Tom complied. Sybil yanked at his wrists, causing him to take a step into her as more of his arms rested over the basin of the kitchen sink. She turned on the water and gently placed his hands beneath the stream. Tom flinched and Sybil let out a small laugh. "It's water. If this is any indication, your pain threshold is shit."

"My skin is raw," Tom explained.

"And who's fault is that?"

"Mine, but—"

"It's gonna hurt like hell when I pour half of that bottle of peroxide on it so you best put your game face on now."

Tom blinked, returning his attention to the way the water rushed over his hands. Slowly Sybil lathered up her own hands and began to rub her fingers upon Tom's. She was gentle, careful not to put too much pressure on his wounds or allow soap to sit upon his cuts for too long. "You okay?" she gauged.

He nodded. "Fine."

"I'll let you chug a bottle of whiskey if the pain's that bad."

Tom pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. He was more than amused by her but he looked away all the same. "It's fine."

"Mhm," Sybil hummed, once again causing them to share knowing smiles.

Sybil instructed Tom to shake off his now-clean hands. Everything about her was patient, but even though Tom had watched her grab for the bottle of disinfectant, he was still surprised when the liquid glided over his skin, fizzing upon his cuts and stinging the raw flesh beneath.

"Fuck…"

Sybil glanced at him once more. "Are we good? Can I keep going?" He nodded and she continued to splash at his skin with the mixture. "Normally I'd be mad at you for having a temper but I really can't blame you here," Sybil began, her eyes still concentrating on the task before her. "She's lucky to have you."

"She doesn't think so. But Rory thinks they are and then Emilee ends up resenting her for that."

Sybil took Tom's hands out of the sink and began to pat at his skin with the washcloth. She then grabbed for the nearby tube of Brulidine and began to dab some of the cream upon his cuts. Tom could only watch, all of him somewhat prideful in watching her take care of him.

"I can't do much for the bruising," she explained as she now began to cover his knuckles with the gauze. She stopped, still holding his hand as she leaned back and began to fling open several nearby drawers. Tom could only remain and he was humored to see her return to him with sellotape in her hand. "We're improvising," she explained. "You should have told me what was going on and I would have come prepared."

"I was just glad you came."

Neither said anything more and instead stared at one another for several moments until Sybil found herself unnerved by his gaze. She looked away, distracting her eyes as she grabbed for the elastic bandage. From the same drawer that she'd grabbed the tape, she grabbed for a pair of scissors. "We're cutting this," she explained, but already the blades had sliced at the fabric. There was precisions as her hands moved around his, her fingertips dancing circular motions as she rolled the bandage around his hand. With the elastic secure, she stepped back, already moving to clean up her work space.

"That's it?"

"That's it," she explained with a sweet smile. "Anything else hurt?"

"My head."

"Yeah well take some aspirin. There's not much I can do for that. Besides, it'll help with your hand too."

"Great, well I've already got some up in my room. This girl got trashed the other night and insisted on sleeping in my bed. Pretty sure she left the bottle up there."

"Slept in your bed? With you there? Sounds like she did you a favor," Sybil said, her lips pursed in sly merriment.

Tom helped Sybil, but when she insisted on cleaning off the counter and wiping down the sink, he moved to the fridge to grab for a bottle of water. He grabbed one for her as well, and as he extended his hand to give it to her, he watched her demeanor shift. "I'm sorry," she began to apologize, also releasing a heavy sigh. "Can you please try to convince Emilee to at least let me look at her?"

Tom sighed too. "Yeah, uh…" He looked around the kitchen. "Give me a second."

When he trudged up the stairs toward his sister's bedroom, Sybil followed. At the top of the staircase they split, with Sybil walking toward his room to give Tom and Emilee privacy. She didn't enter though and Tom seemed relaxed by that fact as he took a deep breath and entered his sister's room.

"Em?"

She was sitting on her bed, her legs pulled into her chest as she willed herself not to cry. "Do we not knock anymore?"

"You wouldn't have let me in if I had. And if you truly wanted privacy you would have locked the door," Tom explained with a small empathetic smile.

Em nodded. "Then?" she asked, shifting her gaze toward him. Her phone was on the bed next to her and Tom wondered if maybe she had already tried to reach out to Patrick.

"Sybil wants—"

"Did she stay here the other night?" Emilee's cut him off.

Tom nodded. "Yeah, she did," he revealed calmly. "Are we really going to get into that now?"

"Well I don't care what she wants. What I'd like is for my teenage daughter to not see you having girls over."

"Girls?" Tom questioned with a furrowed brow. His quiet, unassuming nature caused Emilee to be even more on edge. "Em, it's Sybil...and it was once. And Rory's a big girl now. Actually," he corrected with a slight laugh, "she's been pretty mature for quite some time now. She's definitely more of an adult than I am on most days. I think she knows that I can do what I want and while she's in this house, she can't. The only difference is she doesn't care the way most teenagers do. She's too worried about her mam to focus on her own life."

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" Emilee seethed. "Wow, what a great mam I am - my daughter feels she needs to take care of me."

"I didn't say that."

"You might as well have!"

"Fuck, Em! Stop, alright? I'm not...I'm probably not being very tactful here but fuck, I am trying! I am so worried about you, okay? That's all this ever is. Do you know how scared I was walking in here tonight? Honestly, I'm lucky I didn't have a fucking heart attack—"

"Tom, don't say that."

"I just want you to be happy and all you want to do is push everyone away! You pushed Mam and Dad away. You've pushed Rory and me away lately. You hold onto Pat...but why? You think that's what you deserve?"

"I don't know," she shrugged.

"Well you don't. No one does, but especially not you."

"Well I'm sorry. It was stupid and—"

"Yeah, it was," Tom chuckled, "but we all do stupid shit. Lord knows I do...have," he corrected.

Both of their minds drifted to the woman standing just outside the door, her hand placed to her mouth as she bit at the nail on her thumb. For a moment Sybil thought of checking on Rory but soon decided it wasn't her place. Really, that's all she was trying to do: find her place in all of this.

"So," Tom continued, "will you please let Sybil look at you? She's really worried."

"She's worried?" Emilee asked, as if it disbelief.

"Yeah, she is," Tom laughed. "That's her. She was ready to toss me to the side if you would have let her. She's worried about you and I am too so if you'd let her look at you we can at least make sure you're okay. She thinks you might have a concussion."

Emilee took a beat to look at her brother. "I just...Tom, I get it. I do. But I really can't face her right now."

"Em, she—"

"I know and you need that, okay? I mean, look! She's already bandaged you up—"

"Em, please, alright? She's not like that. Sybil's not here to judge you. She's a doctor and this is what she does. She takes care of people."

"Yeah, you," Emilee said with persistence. "She takes care of _you_."

Tom stood up. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration as he looked to the door then back to his sister. "You don't get it."

There were no other words exchanged as Tom left the room. Out in the hallway his eyes caught upon Sybil's and the two shared disappointed looks. She stepped forward, pushing his door open. Tom moved to step into the space before her, ready for their escape, but before she could place her hand to his back in the way she wanted to, Emilee emerged.

She pressed her hand to her temple and squinted, blocking out the lights above. "I'm only out here because I swear I can hear the pounding in my head and with every beat I feel like the circumference of my skull is increasing."

Sybil smirked. She detached from Tom and went to his sister. "That's definitely not what's happening but thank you for letting me look at this," she said as she followed Emilee into the nearby bathroom. Tom followed too, his body resting upon the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the women interact.

"I'm sorry you have to look at this…"

"Please. I've seen worse. But I want to help you and I'm glad you're letting me." Sybil grabbed for her phone from her back pocket and unlocked the device to access its flashlight feature. As she held the electronic back, she reached out to touch Emilee's forehead and was not surprised when the Branson girl flinched. "Alright," Sybil sighed out. "Did you black out?"

"Probably. I don't remember."

"Well you can hear me so that's good."

"My ears are ringing," Emilee explained.

Sybil slipped her phone back into her pocket and removed the ball of her palm from Emilee's forehead. She released a heavy exhale before sharing her diagnosis. "Yeah, it's likely that even if this isn't a concussion that your head's suffered some serious trauma."

"Does she need a hospital?" Tom asked, essentially inviting himself back into the situation.

"I don't think so. At least not tonight. But some aspirin might not hurt."

"Nothing can make this worse…" Emilee joked.

"Can you go get that?" Sybil asked Tom. He nodded quickly and disappeared. In his absence both thought of the joke she'd made earlier and how now it was so easy once again to reference Tom's bedroom and the unconventional night they'd shared the week prior.

The room was quiet without Tom but Emilee soon changed that. "I don't know what he's told you but—"

"I don't really think it matters." Sybil shrugged, also giving a nervous smile. Her thoughts then shifted. "Is Rory okay?"

"Just emotionally damaged," Emilee scoffed. "I've messed her up pretty badly. Do you do psych evaluations too?"

"You and Tom certainly have the same sense of humor." Sybil smirked. "I don't, though as an outsider I can confirm that I don't think you messed her up. Rory's smart. You've raised her to know right from wrong and she knows, unfortunately, that her dad may not be the best person in the world. But it's likely in knowing this, she knows how awesome you are."

Emilee looked away. "You're disgustingly kind."

Sybil had her arms crossed over her chest. Her body swayed while she concentrated on Emilee and then the door and back again. "Thank you?" Her eyes were lost again. The distraction was one she felt was necessary. She didn't want to make Emilee any more uncomfortable than she believed she already had and was more than shocked to hear the eldest Branson child speaking out again, this time with a shaky voice.

"He loves you, you know."

Sybil paused. Her arms fell and she nodded, gulping down a breath of stifled air. "I know."

"If you don't...if you don't love him anymore can you just let him down easily?"

In the time it had taken for Sybil to pause and process Emilee's blunt question Tom returned. It was easy then for Sybil to remember her role as doctor, pushing the role she once wished she had in this family to the back of her mind. "I want to make sure this doesn't progress so you need to be woken up every couple of hours. I don't think it's that bad but I'd like to make sure. If you seem to wake up fine, we can let it go. But I still think it'd be best if you see a doctor tomorrow."

Emilee groaned. "Fineeeee," she whined. "Tom can wake me—"

"It's not a problem," Sybil assured sweetly. Her smile was contagious and even Emilee, in all of her immense pain, couldn't help but to smile back. "I can stay here. I'm used to being up this long. It'll just feel like any other night."

Emilee looked to her brother then back to Sybil. "Okay."

"Uh, here," Tom interrupted as he stepped forward to give his sister several aspirin and a glass of water.

With the pills swallowed, Sybil took a last glance to Emilee. "Are you sure you're alright?" she asked, still searching her face for a deeper answer. Emilee could only nod. All she wanted at this point was sleep.

Sybil nodded too. She didn't wish to make the moment any more awkward than it already had been, while at the same time she acknowledged the boldness behind her words, especially as she saw Emilee process the information in such a frank way.

At the door she paused. Tom felt the distance between them increase so he stepped back to her, stopping before he entered his own bedroom. Sybil placed her hand to the bathroom doorframe and leaned in. "And in answer to your question...I won't. Because I do."

The two women were at a truce, especially now as Sybil walked toward Tom's bedroom, leaving a bewildered Emilee in her wake. If the blonde was stunned by her admission then so was Sybil. It was the first acknowledgement of a year long battle with herself. The next phase was to admit this openly to Tom. It was likely she'd already made that first step in inviting herself to sleep in his bed — again. Her actions would say it slowly and in whispers and he'd have no option but to put the pieces together. But it was still too raw for it to hit the air with sound.

Tom stood with his back up against the door to his bedroom as if to invite Sybil inside. It also kept him close to the hallway, all of him apprehensive. "I'm going to ask again…" he explained. "Do you want me to sleep in the spare room because—"

The corner's of Sybil's mouth pulled into a smile as she peeled back the corner of his duvet. She'd done this only a few nights ago but then she had on far less clothing. As Tom shut his bedroom door, he remained still, not going to her but instead wondering if he should offer her another shirt.

With deliberate actions, Sybil looked to him this time as she peeled off another dress. This one flowed more and Sybil's hair was down now, tamed in contrast to the silk chemise she wore beneath. She made no apologies for the way she presented herself to him and Tom lacked the same guilt as his eyes drank her in. There was a certain humor to her actions the other night but here she was fully in control of herself, especially as she slid into his bed and continued to stare at him.

"Are you okay?" she asked with pursed lips. "Do I need to check you for a concussion too?"

"Maybe," he admitted, swallowing hard.

She rested her head so casually upon his pillows. "Are you going to get into bed with me, or…"

Tom nodded. "I'm still giving you time to retract."

Sybil quirked an eyebrow. "Should I retract?"

"I think you should do what you want to do."

"Great," Sybil nodded innocently. "Then I want you to get undressed and get into bed with me."

It was an order but Tom still hesitated as he took off his shirt, and for more reasons than the delay that occurred due to his bandaged hand. His jeans were soon kicked off too, and out of habit — both nightly and in a nod to the past — Tom moved to his dresser to grab for a fresh pair of boxer-briefs. Sybil only saw the way his shadow moved upon the wall as he disrobed completely and then stepped into them. As he returned she saw the light in the room flicker off, leaving them illuminated by the single lamp on Tom's side of the bed.

He pulled back the covers but again he paused. Sybil's eyes bore into him, taking stock of the abdomen she'd grown so accustomed to. He looked better in this light, all of him so vulnerable as he slowly sat down and repositioned himself to settle beneath the covers. She was still smiling at him but he still wondered if this were okay. She was here just last week but he had sweatpants on then and she was somewhat inebriated.

Tom turned to click off the light on his bedside table. The room was drenched in darkness, allowing for him to finally release all of the air he had sworn she took from him just moments earlier. He shifted, but only barely.

Through the darkness, Sybil turned over, her back toward him as she blinked at the door to his closet and bathroom. "You can touch me," she offered with a voice that shook.

"I didn't…"

"I want you to," she tried. " I...I miss it."

There was no hesitation this time. She'd given him more than enough permission and when Tom moved over to envelop her it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. He even shared with her an old habit: a kiss to her shoulder.

"I miss this," he admitted. "Probably more than anything else."

"Yeah, me too." There was silence before Sybil continued. "You're a good man, Tom. She'll see it someday."

"I don't care if she does. I just wish she didn't hate me so much."

Sybil looked over her shoulder so she could see him. "Do you really believe that?"

"Of course. And she doesn't like you because you make me happy."

"I don't think that's the case," Sybil explained.

"No, it—"

"She essentially told me that's not the case," she said adamantly. The irritation in her voice was directed inwardly. Emilee's words still shocked her and Sybil wondered if she even heard them correctly. "She's protective of you and she doesn't want you to get hurt."

"I gave up my right to be offended by you hurting me a long time ago," Tom stated earnestly.

Sybil nearly wept. "I don't want to hurt you," she admitted softly. "I'm just trying to make sense of all of this. Once again it's not how I feel but how everyone else feels."

"I don't want anything that's going to make your life with your family and friends difficult."

She was looking to him again, thinking that maybe she should just turn over and wrap her hands around his neck. That simple idea had her eyes dilating as she pictured what would happen next: her lips upon his as their hips rolled together. "I can't base my happiness on their wants and needs," she finally gave, her body still.

Tom felt her tension causing his grip around her waist to tighten as Sybil softened back into him. "I know I said it already but I really missed this."

He said nothing and when Sybil turned to look at him once more she found Tom was already asleep. His exhaustion had overtaken him and he was ultimately lulled into slumber by even the thought of Sybil referencing their past so fondly.

* * *

I know a lot of you were expecting the breakfast scene that was mentioned in the last chapter. There wasn't much substance to it (how I imagined it to happen in my mind) and it was more important that we just know Sybil chose to spend her time with Tom and all of that being a very natural decision for them to make. So I apologize if you were disappointed!

I'm heading out of town for a week. I have the next chapter written so depending on the response to this one (and how much writing I get done while I'm gone) I'll post that while I'm away.

Also, be nice to **AngieMagz** because she typically bullies me into posting :)

Thanks for reading!

x. Elle


	17. Where You Are

Sybil wasn't quite sure what she preferred: a combative Mary or the Mary she saw now, the one who believed it was easier to ignore her sister than to exist in her presence with a bitten tongue. Since arriving into Cambridge for Easter, Sybil had done her best to give her family the attention they deserved. She hadn't been home since Christmas and it was more than nice to see everyone, but there was still a certain stuffiness when they all sat around the table for dinner. They were a family just as they'd always be but all of them had their individual lives now; Mary would wed Matthew soon and Sybil was mere months away from being a surgeon. In a way it was the lack of change in Robert and Cora that had both London-based girls feeling so out of place. Their childhood home was nothing but a house now.

After dinner they all shared tea out on the patio. Sybil used this as a chance to steal away, finding solace on a lower step of the staircase where she could easily text Tom. Then again, like Mary, maybe in removing herself from a typical situation she was only shining light on everything that had changed.

"Tom?" Sybil heard, causing her to look up. She was so busy smiling down at her screen that she didn't even see Matthew approach. He chuckled and moved to sit beside her. "I'm not going to tell Mary," he promised.

Sybil clicked her phone off and placed it beside her on the step. "She didn't send you to find me?"

"No, I actually needed to check my own phone and I figured I'd see where you had gone to."

"Well here I am…"

"Hiding?"

"Not quite," Sybil dismissed.

"You'd have something to talk about if you were just honest with everyone."

Sybil looked to Matthew, forcing a smile that barely made it past her lips. "I think that requires me to be honest with myself."

"Ahhh," Matthew accepted. "So what is it? Fear or genuine confusion?"

"Both?" Sybil proposed. "I don't know what's going on and there's no need to sound the alarm if there's no fire, y'know?"

He nodded. "I guess. But I think there's also something to be said for easing your family into a situation."

"Yeah?" Sybil asked. "Kind of like how you're slowly dropping hints to my parents about Mary's pregnancy…" Matthew's eyes were wide, causing Sybil's voice to trail off. "Oh, wait!" she corrected cheerily, "you're not doing that. This poor child is going to be a complete surprise."

"Maybe we can plan it," Matthew suggested. "We'll tell your parents we're pregnant and you can just casually admit that you're dating Tom again."

"I'm not...we're not dating," Sybil assured. "He's my patient."

Matthew turned to look at her. Even he had to smirk. "Whether you two are dating or not, I think texting him is still a bit inappropriate."

Sybil licked her lips and looked away. "Yeah," she sighed. "I know…"

"Oh, c'mon, Sybil!" Matthew tried, nudging her with his shoulder. "That's not the part I'm criticizing...actually, I'm not criticizing any of it."

"You're just gathering information to take back to Mary so she can criticize me?"

Matthew chuckled. "I already told you I'm not here to spy. You know, maybe I'm worried too. Maybe I'm curious and I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I am," Sybil nodded. "Okay, that is. So there's no need to worry. I'm fine and I'm excited for the wedding and the baby—"

"And what about you?" he asked.

She paused. "I told you, I'm fine."

"Would you be better if Tom were here?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Probably not because everyone else would make things unpleasant."

"Alright but leaving them out of it...would you be happy?"

"I am happy, Matthew…"

"Happier then?"

"I don't...I don't know."

Matthew nodded and looked straight ahead. A silence swept over them and was interrupted only when the back door was slammed closed by the wind. "Well I think you would be," he said strongly. "I think you'd be happier and if that's the case then that's what I want for you, Sybil. When you…" He sighed out. "When I came back around you didn't make things easy but it made sense to me. I didn't mind proving myself to you because I knew I loved Mary. And then one day you were less harsh...you smiled when you saw me, you actually had conversations with me when I'd come over for dinner. I mean, I assume you admitted I wasn't a completely rotten person."

"Yeah, not _completely_ rotten…" she sassed.

"But you didn't do it for me. You did it because you saw that I made Mary happy. You did it for her because that is what you two always do. But Mary can't give Tom a second chance if you keep hiding him away."

"We're not dating, Matthew!"

"But he's someone to you, Sybil! You weren't honest with her then and you're not being honest now and that is terrifying to her! She wants to be supportive but she doesn't know what she's even supporting. To be frank, you've completely pushed her out. She can't accept Tom if she can't see how happy he makes you."

"What are you even saying?"

"I'm saying that when this surgery is over, when you finally have time to admit how you feel about him, maybe it's worth bringing Tom for dinner instead of spending your time texting him in the dark."

"My parents didn't know all of the awful things you did," Sybil reminded. "Only I did—"

"What…" Matthew pushed a frustrated hand through his hair. When he turned back to her, their eyes did not completely meet. "What Tom did wasn't that bad and I'm sorry if me saying that offends you. You had the right to feel what you felt but as a bloke, I get it. If I thought even for a second that being with Mary would take away all of these opportunities she's had since Cambridge...that's it. I would have left too."

"Well that's not valiant, you know."

"No, it's stupid. But it's also really hard to watch someone you love struggle because you're in their life."

"We really...we really didn't struggle before all of that. That's the problem."

"I know that," Matthew said in acceptance. "I saw the way you were. I mean, I saw far more than Mary did...probably more than anyone really. You were around more than my other flatmates."

Sybil chuckled. "Yeah…"

"Think about it, Sybil. What did Mary know of you and Tom? She saw you snogging, then he was coming over, _as a friend_ , and having far better conversation with your father than I could. Then you two were arrested and suddenly he's taking you to Ireland. You were acting like all of it was nothing and Mary's thinking he's taking advantage of you and you didn't really work that hard to make her see it differently. You played into what she thought. I mean, if you were my sister, I'd be really worried too."

"So this is my fault?"

"It's no one's fault. I'm just trying to show you that Mary's trying and that there's far more to this story than her not liking Tom. She's only ever followed your lead, just like you followed hers and started being nice to me again. But what is she meant to think if you're brushing the relationship off like it's nothing?"

"That Tom is my patient and I shouldn't even be thinking of him...missing him," she admitted. Sybil released a sigh, one that left her breathless and somewhat verklempt. "I can't even think of what he is to me because I miss him. I just miss him."

Matthew turned to her and forced a sympathetic smile. He leaned in and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in. They looked far more like siblings than the enemies they used to be so many years ago. "Sybil, I'm sorry…"

"I guess I've always missed him. That's the point. Only he's back now and I still miss him. If he's not here, I want him to be and I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing."

"Well I don't think it's a bad thing," Matthew assessed with a breathy laugh. "When I drop your sister off at the office each morning I spend the rest of my day calculating how much longer I'll have to be away from her. And if I have a meeting after work? Forget it. It's like my mind can only take so much of it."

"I saw him yesterday," Sybil admitted. "And he's all I'm thinking about."

"Yeah well stop beating yourself up over it, would you? Missing someone is hardly the worst thing you can do." He paused to take her in. "Do you think he misses you?"

"I don't know. I want to. He's so...respectful. We used to tell each other what we were thinking without apology but now I can tell he's watching his words. But that means I'm not getting the lovely things either. And that's all he'd be censoring anyway...he thinks I don't want to hear those things when in reality they're all I want to hear. It'd be nice to know I'm not alone here."

"You're hardly alone. I'm sure he misses you. Maybe he's also not telling you how he feels because you're his doctor…"

Sybil dropped her head down into her hands. "I know," she mumbled out from behind her palms. Matthew couldn't tell if she was crying but if she wasn't, he was sure she would be soon. "You're right, I shouldn't even be talking to him like this."

"Sybil, it's done. You can't beat yourself up for that either. Bloody hell...now who's censoring who?"

Sybil dropped her palms, revealing puffy red eyes. "What?" Her voice quaked.

"It's...it's a risk. I get that. But I think if you just allowed yourself to feel what you feel you may realize it really is as easy as all of that. Let yourself miss him and try not to think about everything else. You deserve to be happy, Sybil and if you're waiting for permission then there it is. Have at it."

Sybil smiled through her tears. She even sniffled and laughed to aid in the process. "Does Mary know you're giving me this permission?"

"We've talked about it. Maybe not in these words but we have." Matthew sighed out. "I know everyone thinks Mary runs things but she doesn't. Everything we do is a give and take. She may not know we're having this conversation but I know she'll be thankful I took the time to. Those things she wants for you? I want those things too, Sybil. You're family now. If it means a lot to Mary, it means a lot to me."

"Was it ever hard?" Sybil asked. "People have always had so much to say about her..."

"Yeah in uni I was the arse who put those words in their mouths…" The truth had Sybil looking away and Matthew's voice grew serious. "No. I don't mind it one bit. Your sister is beautiful and strong. She's all I've ever wanted in a woman and I can't wait to make her my wife and for her to be the mother of our child. My mum loves her and I know if my dad were here he would too. If people are talking I either don't hear it or I don't care."

"What if your family is the one talking?"

"Well are they?" Matthew challenged. "Have you told your mum and dad where you're at with everything?"

"Barely."

"I'm not going to lie to you and say it'll be easy. But you're an adult now, Sybil. This isn't your home. You don't live in this town anymore. Your life isn't constantly dictated by your dad's job. You have your own job and your own life. If you want Tom in it then I think they have a right to know that. I actually think they might be more receptive than you'd think. I think they'll just be happy you're opening up. Again, you've been terribly quiet…"

"I sound crazy...I sound like the teenage girl I used to be...who they wanted me to be and assumed I was. I saw Tom yesterday and now all I want to do is see him again."

"Alright so maybe you don't want to tell them that. Ease them into it, remember? Just tell them...tell them Tom's back in your life."

"And when they ask how I feel about it? How much do I reveal?"

"I don't think you'll need to reveal much. I knew where you were at without having to ask. They're your parents. Give them a bit of credit."

Mary began to approach, all of her thin frame rounding the corner in time to see Sybil pacing up the stairs. Briefly she wondered if her presence was the cause, but her exhaustion had her slumping down beside her fiance, forgetting about her sister as she dropped her head to his shoulder.

"I'd ask if everything were okay but I know it is."

Matthew looked to her, amused. She had grabbed his hands and was playing with each finger out of habit. "For as long as I've known her, Sybil has always known what she wanted. It's quite odd to see her so conflicted."

It was Mary's turn to look to him, doing so with eyes that questioned his statement. Her words followed suit. "Do you truly think she's conflicted?"

"Well of course she is. I think she knows what she wants but it's more complicated than it once was."

Mary looked away from him. As she returned her concentration to his hands, she smirked, likely unaware that she had. "It was pretty complicated before…"

"Really? I don't agree…" Mary looked to him again. He questioned her constantly but now she waited for his answer with genuine curiosity, not because she wished to counter his argument but rather because she was somewhat shocked to find it existed in the first place. "She was young and she fell in love and she fell hard. They met at a uni party, Mary. A party she didn't even want to go to. If that's not fate then I don't know what is."

"Fate?"

"I'd venture to guess that few meaningful relationships are made at Cambridge ragers."

Mary snorted out a laugh. "No, I suppose not."

"I've seen Sybil happy a lot. It's been pretty amazing to watch this girl who hated me follow her dreams and move away and do all of these really fantastic things away from this place. In a way it's like she was my sister too and I never had that so it was great especially because when you were proud or excited for her, I was too. But she was truly happy then. Very happy. In a way I wished you had seen it. She was just...different."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well I didn't tell you anything then, not just that. We weren't speaking at that point. You'd found out I was seeing other people and you did exactly what I wanted you to do. You pushed me away."

Mary forced a smile but the way in which she clutched on Matthew's arm did not waiver. "It makes me feel like I failed her. Or maybe I feel betrayed...I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that that poor girl had to hear every detail of you and me. I was absolutely smitten with you and I couldn't stop talking about it. I'm sure she thought I was an absolute nutter but I really thought I loved you then."

"Didn't you?"

"Maybe," she shrugged. "I don't think it matters because we were young and stupid and I know how I feel about you now and I wouldn't trade it for the world. But I didn't get to see any of that with her. I've never had the chance to be that person for Sybil and maybe that's my fault."

Matthew scoffed. "How is that your fault?"

"The first thing Sybil knew about Tom was that I didn't like him. I hardly made it easy for her to come to me after that."

"Yeah, love, but you also had no way of knowing that what happened at that party would lead to this."

"No, because she didn't tell me anything," Mary dismissed in sarcastic jest.

He chuckled. "Well I should have told you. When things got better I should have told you how lovely they were. In a way I was jealous…" He forced out another laugh, mostly in embarrassment this time. "Tom had what I wanted and all because he wasn't afraid to tell Sybil how he felt."

Mary turned to him, her arms clutching his as she studied his face. He was still the handsome boy she'd fallen in love with all those years ago, but he was less naive and somehow still just as winsome. "What are you getting at, darling?"

"I'm saying," he began, all with an inhale and a correction to his otherwise slouched posture, "that it's difficult to remember pain in retrospect. But you can vilify Tom all you want when really, he was far better to Sybil than I was to you."

"Oh, Matthew…"

"I'd like to think that I made up for all of that and I love where we are now and I truly believe in some twisted sense that we wouldn't be this strong if we hadn't experienced all of that but sometimes all of that's not necessary. I get it now...Sybil and Tom were in love. Truly, deeply in love. I'm sorry she kept that from you and I'm sorry she's still keeping it from you...whatever it is. But if she forgave me then you absolutely have to forgive Tom."

"I know."

Matthew was stunned by Mary's words and picked his head up because of it. "Wait, what?"

She giggled. "I said I know, you plonker! Don't make me repeat it!"

Matthew paused before continuing. "Do you remember when we were in Boston for Sybil's graduation?"

Mary smirked. "Of course I do…"

"We'd had brunch with everyone and then spent all of the time before the ceremony in bed together?"

Her cheeks were a violent shade of crimson. "I do."

"Do you remember what you said to me?"

"I said a lot of things to you."

"You said that you wished Tom didn't have to leave for Sybil to have all of that."

"Matthew…"

"I don't expect you to ever admit that to her. I honestly don't think I could. But maybe he didn't. Not forever. She still has that life and maybe now she can have him too. I mean, why else would all of this be happening? In what world would she be his doctor?"

"In the same world where she fell in love with him at a uni party, I suppose…"

Matthew beamed down at her. The two had a train to catch soon but he took his time pressing a kiss to her nose only so she could seize his lips in a soft kiss that led to several more.

~!~

It was likely Mary and Matthew were already halfway to Manchester when Sybil entered the kitchen and offered to help her parents clean up. They'd noticed her absence earlier and were more than happy to have her spending time with them but they also didn't hold any of this against her. They'd noticed how difficult holidays were for her lately with nothing other than her career to talk about. Mary had a wedding and soon she'd have a baby. Sybil had the same thing she'd always had: a love for cardiology and an unapologetic work ethic that even her father had a difficult time understanding.

They discussed the Gala that would happen after Mary's wedding and what relatives, mostly American, Sybil could expect to see while they were all in Scotland. Then their focus changed with Sybil asking her parents how they were doing, if Robert was thinking of retiring soon or if, as expected, he'd work as Vice Chancellor at Cambridge for as long as they'd let him. The latter conversation was one that carried on mostly between Cora and Robert and they shared glances with it, ones that invited the silence that inevitably occurred as Sybil continued to help her father load the dishwasher.

"I've been seeing Tom lately," she finally blurted out. Sybil failed to look at either of them when she delivered her news, and as she waited for their response, she grabbed for another plate from the sink and placed it in the rack below.

Robert looked to his wife then back to his daughter. "Seeing him around?"

"With your eyes?" Cora asked.

"No," Sybil dismissed with a laugh. "We've been spending time together."

"A lot of time?" Robert inquired.

"As friends?" Cora tried.

"I…" Sybil looked away. "I don't know."

"Why are you telling us this?"

"I just feel like you should know. I don't want you to hear it from anyone else." Robert returned to his earlier task while Cora chose another response, one that had her simply walking away. "Mum?" Sybil tried, calling her back.

She turned quickly to face her. "What am I supposed to say, Sybil? The boy broke your heart—"

"He's hardly a boy, Mum. Wasn't then and he's certainly not now."

"He broke your heart and you were a bit shaken by the whole thing...and that's an understatement if ever there was one. But you're a grown woman and my opinion doesn't really matter."

"It does though," Sybil assured, almost in disbelief. "That's why I'm telling you."

"It does because you're hoping we're going to be accepting," Robert accessed with a small laugh.

Sybil turned around to look to her father. "Are you not then?"

It was her mother who, yet again, had a response. "Again, I don't know what to say, Sybil. I want to trust that you can make your own decisions but just because you've forgiven Tom doesn't mean the rest of us have."

"Mum…" If there wasn't a countertop separating them, Sybil would have followed her mother in an attempt to bring her back into the conversation. Unfortunately she had already moved on, practically asking that the conversation be forgotten with one foot already pointed toward the nearby study.

"Excuse me but I told your grandmother I'd give her a call before it got too late. Would you like to come?"

"I spoke with her yesterday," Sybil explained nervously. "I'll help Dad with this."

Cora gave a small, somewhat stiff smile before leaving. The kitchen was clean, allowing for Sybil to lean back and cross her arms over her chest while her father continued to work. "Why are you so quiet?"

He chuckled. "Am I?"

"I know you have an opinion. You always have an opinion."

"I'm working on it."

"Mary didn't tell you?"

"No, she did," Robert assured. He shut the dishwasher and stood back as well. "But I thought she was being dramatic. Now that you've told us and you felt comfortable enough to do so, all without our prodding, my opinion is morphing a bit."

Sybil's lips were tightly pursed and her stance put her on the defensive. "In a good way or a bad way?"

"I don't think I'm sure."

"Can you work on that?" she asked with narrowed, slightly-annoyed eyes. "Because Mum wasn't much help and I'd like some feedback here."

"Well what do you think I'm going to say?"

"That you don't approve."

"Really?"

"Yes. Obviously."

"That's not obvious to me…"

Sybil dropped her arms and took a step toward him. "Can you stop with the riddles?"

Robert sighed. "Sybil, your mother is right. You're not a child anymore."

"I wasn't a child then either," she tried, tossing a hand to the side as if to give proof.

"Maybe not, but you were young. You're still young but less so. You know who you are and you've made this life for yourself and your mother and I are so happy for you. But she worries, you know. You haven't dated anyone and you haven't shown signs of that changing anytime soon. We thought it was because Tom had, as your mother puts it, ruined relationships for you. We understood why you were closed off. We hoped it would change by now, but it hasn't. Then Tom's back in the picture and you're forgiving. I know you say you're just friends but it wasn't very believable then and it's hardly believable now."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"I believe that. But I also believe that if you cared less of what the rest of us thought, that might change."

"Well would you approve?" she tossed back.

"I'd have to. I can't forbid you to see him. You don't live under my roof anymore and I'd still like to see you when I can. I won't cast you off because I don't agree with your choice in men."

"Men? No, Daddy, a man."

Robert shook his head and moved to the sink to wash his hands. "Part of me knew this would happen and the other part of me is scared now that it has."

Reluctantly, Sybil released a bit of the tension she carried on her shoulders. "I'm scared too"

"Why's that?"

"Because it was really easy to forgive him. No matter how hard I tried. I can step back now and realize it was probably for the best. We were losing ourselves to one another and it gave us time to remember who we are. But I think…"

"Sybil?"

But she persevered. "I can't make much sense of it so I'm really not going to try but I've wanted Tom for a long time and he wants me and I don't really know if I have a choice in the matter. My heart wants what it wants...I'm just praying everyone can learn to be okay with that. And really I just need some patience while I figure it out too."

"Well I am okay with it. All of it. Again, I have to be, but I always really liked Tom. I wasn't fond of what he did and especially not how it made you feel but while the execution was poor, I do think he meant well. And I can't deny that you've changed now...just like you changed then. You're smiling more and you won't put that goddamn phone down. But it's different too. Like your mother said, I trust you. I think if your heart wants this enough, it'll give your mind some time to sort out the details and make it work."

All of her inner turmoil was gone, released slowly in the form of a relaxed smile. "That's probably the best thing you've ever said to me."

"Your mother and Mary aren't going to be as easy," Robert revealed with a chuckle.

Sybil gave a knowing smirk. "Your opinion means a lot to me."

"Mary's a bit cheesed off."

"You think?"

"Well of course she is. She cares so much for you, Sybil, she can't see that maybe her overprotective ways are keeping you from happiness."

"I'm so happy for her wedding though. I'm thrilled for her and Matthew. I can't wait to take some time off from work and see everyone."

"Have you asked her?"

Sybil paused, blinking. "Asked what?"

"If you could take Tom."

"Slightly. She didn't really take to it…"

"Well I asked her…" Robert revealed.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because she was clearly trying to rally the troops and I wanted nothing more than to be objective. I'm also curious."

"What did she say?" Sybil asked quickly.

"That she didn't like Tom but she'd let you take him if that's what you really wanted."

She sighed. "I don't want it to be this big thing…"

"We all just want you to be happy, Sybil. If that's not happening then it is a big thing and up until now, it really wasn't. But you seem to be happy now and I'm sure if you give in a little, it'll get better. As long as Tom is being respectful, as I'm sure he is, it's not really anyone's place to judge."

Sybil beamed. In a way she was giddy. Everything before had always been a struggle: the lying, the choice to move away, and then the silent admission that she was back but perpetually alone. "Thanks, Daddy."

"But do me a favor and not share all of this with him, would you? I'd like to make him work for it a bit."

Sybil nodded. "Deal."

~!~

With the house clean and the doors locked, even the bright moon wasn't enough to keep the home from being painted in darkness. Sybil brought a cup of tea up to her room and set it on her bedtable beside her most current novel. She vowed to actually read it, the same task that was meant to happen when she sat on the train from London to Cambridge. Then she spent that time texting Tom and was doing her best not to do that now, especially as she thought of the time he was spending with his family and how he deserved the quiet confidence that came with being back in Kinsale. She was also doing her best to not want him in the way she did.

In pajamas, she turned off her light and walked toward her bed. Once under the comforter she immediately took out her phone and was surprised and somewhat sad to see he hadn't reached out to her. While she waited, her screen turned black. Sybil took this as an opportunity to look around the room she used to call her own. It was chilling to be home but in accepting all in her life that had changed, she didn't mind the familiarity. There was so much of who she used to be here and because of that there was so much of Tom. They had once spent far too many lazy afternoons in this bed and she nearly laughed, wondering how it was they ever got away with any of it.

Her mind trailed off, brought back to the present only by the muffled sound of her phone ringing from beneath the mess of her bedsheets. "Hello?"

"Hey you."

At hearing the sound of Tom's voice, she immediately exhaled. "Hi," she whispered, though not out of fear of being heard.

"Tired?"

"Something like that."

"Rough night then?"

She paused. "It's just weird to be home, I guess. And it became even more weird when Mary and Matthew left."

"Being alone with your parents?" Tom guessed.

"Yeah. It's just...weird."

"Am I to blame?"

His question dried Sybil's throat. "What?"

"I hope it's not...well, it is, I guess but I, uh...I told my parents you were back in my life."

"Yeah, me too."

Tom was somewhat surprised to hear Sybil confirm something he had only wished. "Is your dad pissed?"

"I don't know. Mum isn't too happy."

"They're just worried about you."

"Yeah well I'd like for them not to be."

"My parents are happy for me."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Tom chuckled. "Why is that so surprising?"

"I don't think your parents really liked me when we visited..." she explained hesitantly, as if referencing the past made it all somehow more true.

"I think they were in shock," Tom tried. "I didn't bring anyone home and when I did, you were this young girl that I was very much in love with."

"Did you really see it that way?"

"No, but they did and sometimes that's all that matters."

"I wish things were different then."

"I obviously agree with that."

"I wonder if we would have broken up if I wasn't seventeen."

"Maybe not," Tom admits honestly. "But it doesn't matter because you were and we did."

"There was a lot more than my future we were fighting."

He sighed out. He was shirtless in bed, wondering if she existed similarly. Just the other night he had fallen asleep holding her and now they were an ocean away, nervously skirting around the truth like teenagers that didn't know nearly everything about one another. "Syb, we don't have to get into this…"

"Because you don't want to?"

"No because I'm working really hard to keep you from getting sad. If I can keep us in the present, I'd like to do that."

"Well what if I want to talk about it?" Sybil tossed back.

"Maybe we should do that when we're together."

"Then come home, Tom Branson." Her reaction stunned Tom, and yet he found himself refraining from shock in her presence. She was forever surprising him in a way that had him mostly expecting it. "If only I could."

Sybil was enjoying the banter but was also realizing how exposed she felt. To remedy this, she slowed her words and took a deep breath. "I don't want them to ruin us, s'all." Her voice was smaller now.

"Them?"

"Everyone," she explained, still without much volume. "Mary. Emilee. My parents."

"You don't have to blame them for something I did, Sybil..."

"Yeah, but we were arguing before that."

"We were arguing because I didn't want to tell everyone we were dating. Again, that was my fault."

"But you didn't want to do that because they were not kind."

Tom wondered if Sybil's rebuttals were ones she had thought of recently. Instead of allowing herself to love him she was instead making excuses for behavior she was still attempting to understand. "I didn't want to deal with the bullshit, that's true. But I wanted to show you off. I was proud of us, Syb. I hope you know that. I just knew I was alone in thinking that."

"You weren't alone," she sighed out, now feeling ashamed she had caused him doubt so close to bed. She knew what it was like to stare up at the moon and feel bad for things out of your control. "I know it would have been harder for you than for me. But I wanted that too. And it was hard because my life caused more problems than your life."

Tom gave a heavy exhale. "Syb, you don't have to rationalize it. I still could have made different decisions."

"I guess. But you're not an island, Tom. You can not care, but what they think still matters." The anger and hurt Tom had originally thought was directed at him now turned like a knife she pointed straight for her own heart.

His eyes narrowed - mostly in fear. "Is this the part where you tell me it's your turn?"

"What?"

"To let what they think matter," he explained. "Can we not be friends?"

"Are we friends?"

"I want to make a joke. That's what we're good at. But...I don't know," he admitted earnestly. "I asked you that that first day, if you remember. You told me that not only did you not want to be but that we flat out were not friends."

Sybil smirked. "I've been in your bed far too many times lately for us to not at least be friends."

The mere thought had Tom relaxing. "Good."

"Of course we're friends, Tom," Sybil followed. It was as if she could sense his need for further assurance. "We started out as friends and we're friends now. I want you to always be my friend. You're one of the few people in this world who understands me."

"Thanks...yeah," he settled, hoping she understood that to add any other words was to ruin the moment completely.

"My dad…" Sybil didn't want the conversation to end and was not at all surprised to find herself admitting things her father has asked her not to. "I think he was trying to say that he liked you," Sybil attempted, doing her best to pose the statement like a question she needed his help answering. "I probably shouldn't tell you that because I'm sure I'll be able to hear your head inflating from all the way across the sea."

"That's interesting."

"I was surprised to hear it. Either way, I'm amazed that he was able to be honest with me about it."

"Your dad is cool. I've always liked him...even when he made that thick remark on you being in love with me as if it was something to pity."

"Ahh, yes," Sybil giggled as she remembered. "Well all dads say stupid things, don't they?"

"My dad doesn't talk enough to say anything stupid." Sybil laughed so hard she snorted, only causing Tom to join her. "I guess that means a lot," he said, continuing to the sound of Sybil still smiling. "It's nice to hear that he doesn't hate me."

"Me too," she beamed. "It means he approves...but that, I know, I'll never hear. Not in a million years."

"Will it matter in a million years?"

He was flirting and to keep herself from joining him or to admit that was what they'd been doing all alone, Sybil sighed as she sunk further into her bed, wishing all the while that he were beside her. "What do you want me to say, Tom? We're friends. I miss you. It terrifies me that it's only been a few hours and I wish you were here."

He gave a steady exhale. "I miss you too."

"Are you happy now?"

"No," he dragged out, returning the conversation to its previously light nature. "I'd be happier if you were closer and we could go get fry up. I'm lucky you love food because it gives me an excuse to lure you out of your house."

"Alright now who's making me sound pathetic?"

"You're just busy. I'm busy too…"

"When are you back home then? Friday?"

"Thursday. I have a few things to finish up before the new semester begins. Will I see you before Monday?"

Sybil thought for a moment. "Maybe. I get in Friday and have work Saturday morning. I'll see what I can do."

Tom paused too. "It's weird, isn't it? You told me to come home before. Cambridge was my home then. London's my home now. My home seems to be wherever you are."

"That's a sweet thing to say to a friend."

"Tease." They both shared a brief laugh. "Alright. I'm tired."

"Old man," Sybil mumbled.

"Low blow."

"I'm tired too, you big baby."

"Text me when you get back to Cambridge?"

Again she was grinning. "I'll text you in the morning. Is that okay?"

"Well I'm not going to complain."

Sybil gave one last sigh before hanging up the phone. "Goodnight, Tom."

She was already halfway gone when Tom rolled over and looked out the window toward the harbor. He'd held her here once, all of her naked form curled into him for warmth. "Night, Syb."

* * *

I apologize if all of you were expecting a chapter where Tom and Sybil were together (in the same space) but it's important to show their current attraction/tension stretches far beyond the physical. Also the last chapter gave us a glimpse into Tom's world and I thought it was important to do that with Sybil. Some things have changed...some things have not and never will. Anyway! The next chapter is a good one…

Thanks for reading!

x. Elle


	18. How To Be Incomplete

"So let me clarify. You don't like him because he's a doctor?" Sybil tapped her pen on the counter of the nurse's station. At the same time she anxiously crossed and uncrossed her legs. In addition to several series of test results, she was waiting for an answer from William and when his lips moved in a futile attempt to give her one, both friends were lost in laughter.

"I know!" William let out. "I just—"

"You know that 'I just don't like him' is a valid excuse for not wanting to date someone, correct?"

"But I do like him! He's great! I just don't know how I feel about dating another doctor."

"Any why not?" Sybil asked incredulously.

"When would we ever see one another? It's impossible to have a relationship where both parties are so busy all of the time. And I will not reduce myself to quickies in the lounge areas. I just won't do it."

"Oh yeah, not worth it," Sybil said, playing along.

William immediately took notice and bumped her with his hip causing her to nearly lose her footing. "You have any insight on that? You know, quickies in the break rooms?"

"Ha!" Sybil gave as she dropped her head back to laugh. "You wish!"

"Actually, I don't. But most of the male doctors in this hospital? Yes, they most definitely do wish."

Sybil rolled her eyes. "Well they can keep wishing…" She grabbed for the chart a nurse had finally handed her way and opened the file to check inside. Her eyes glanced across _age_ , _blood type_ and _diagnosis_. Her interest was halted only when William nudged her again and insisted she look up. "What?" she squawked in irritation.

Sybil only allowed her face to soften when her eyes traveled the same path his had, all the way to the giant delivery that was being place at the end of the nurse's station. Concealed only by brown paper and a small piece of twine was a perfectly cut bouquet of fresh red roses. There were so many stems in the bunch that each bud blended together, not quite in bloom.

"Jesus..." William breathed out. "Have you ever seen that many flowers?"

Sybil nodded blankly. "Yeah, actually...at a funeral," she admitted. It was also likely even more flowers would exist at Mary's upcoming wedding. "But in a bouquet like that? Red? Never…" Sybil nearly had to shake her head to bring herself back to the present. She cared not of the file she clutched in her hand or the way her phone vibrated in her pocket. Her only objective now was to get her and William away from the nurse's station and subsequently away from all of the curiosity now surrounding them.

"Shit, who do you think they're from?" William asked sounding slightly excited. "Ben said that some of the doctors like to send flowers to the nurses they're sleeping with. Nurses that their wives know nothing about, of course. They get off on it. I can't decide if that's—"

"Dr. Crawley?" A voice called out.

William stopped talking. Both were stunned, him out of curious amusement and her now out of dread. "Yes?"

"The delivery," the nurse said, now nodding back to the bouquet. "I believe it's for you."

"Gheez, Sybil. Do you have a secret admirer I don't know about?"

Sybil's features were tight on her face and as she looked back to him and shook her head, her mannerisms said far more than her lips ever could. "Not quite…"

William's shoulders deflated. "No...he didn't…"

Sybil sighed. "I think he did…"

William's incorrect assessment was only confirmed when Sybil grabbed for the small envelope inside the bouquet. Her name was written on the outside in silver foil script but the inside carried a message only she could decipher. It was written in handwriting she'd once spent hours pouring over when she would help Tom edit his thesis night after night.

 _I had to cancel our meeting this morning and I didn't have time to stop and get you a tea so I hope this suffices._ There was a single space that separated his initial message from his last: _I'm glad we're in the same city again. It feels good to be home._

All of it was so innocent and yet Sybil felt herself ignited by his words, her fingertips on fire as she folded the note up and slid it into her pocket. Tightly she shut her eyes, willing everyone around her to disappear. It was unbelievably difficult to enjoy a moment like this in a world that only warned her against it. This was all she had once wanted but again she found her and Tom backed into a corner where the light never seemed to fully shine.

Exhaling, Sybil turned back to William with a wide smile. "I have to go..." she revealed.

William squinted. "Sybil, we have our meeting, babe," he tried.

"It's canceled so I have a bit of time," Sybil explained with an exhale of relief. "I'll be back!"

Behind them Dr. Frye revealed himself to the room as he looked up from his own chart to catch Sybil jogging down the hallway toward the stairs. The rest of the wing returned to their activities but he and William remained motionless, watching her go.

Ben approached, joining them in their wonderment. "What's going on?"

"Apparently our meeting is canceled," William explained, looking to him.

"Yes," Dr. Frye confirmed. "It is. And I was just coming out here to tell all of you that…" In hearing this William looked to his advisor but soon his only option was to look away again. There were simply no words that could fix this; already too many had been kept from the surgeon.

~!~

In their years apart, Sybil had walked through Tom's campus many times and on one occasion she had even convinced Gwen to grab a drink with her at the university's pub. It was a fleeting period in her previous life where she'd chosen to be vulnerable in hopes of running into Tom. Of course the two never met but there was a certain innocent optimism in those moments when Sybil would slowly walk past the library or ration a pint of stout to last far longer than it should.

This time she wasn't in her scrubs and with an actual task in mind, she found herself headed toward one of the many lecture halls. She gripped tightly at the bag slung over her shoulder, moving as if she too would be late for a seminar. Amongst all of the quiet chaos she remembered the university student she used to be - so consumed with her studies she didn't realize how heartbroken she had become. Then she thought to an earlier time: one when she was falling deeply in love with a boy she'd only known for several weeks. Somehow she now felt more connected to that version of herself.

It felt like a first day with Sybil approaching and entering the building with such trepidation. As she pulled back on the door she looked up again, ensuring she was in the correct location. The door slammed closed behind her defining her presence underneath the low-watt lighting where a long, somewhat vacant hallway was marked by several closed doors and just as many bulletin boards, all of them overcrowded with extracurricular notices. She stopped, spinning as she looked from one end then to the other.

"Miss?" she heard, causing her to shift once more. Sybil's mouth dropped open as she prepared to explain herself. "Can I help you find something?" the woman asked sweetly.

Slowly Sybil nodded. "Um, the offices," she mumbled. Sybil then closed her eyes in punishment. "Professor's offices," she clarified.

Again the woman was smiling. "Right this way," she pointed, now guiding Sybil down the hall. "Was there someone in particular you were looking for?"

"Yes, actually. Dr. Branson. Is he around?"

"Oh," she said, stilling her feet. Sybil came to a stop as well. "He is. He's in our main hall." The woman glanced to her watch. "He should be finished up shortly. Poor fellow is dealing with an unruly freshmen class this semester. Last minute test prep, I believe."

Sybil nodded. "Is there…"

Her question, while incomplete, was only met with another grin and a gesture in the correct direction. "Third door on the left."

The energy Sybil had when she left the hospital continued to move her limbs, especially as she neared the door. It was the same verve that had her running home to change and now paying no mind to the class being held inside the lecture hall as she abruptly entered.

Though constant interruptions were common during a typical class, all students glanced to the door at the back of the hall as Sybil's presence noisily interjected itself into this serious last-minute lesson. Tom looked to her and as his students turned back to him they saw the way he now rubbed at the back of his neck and let out a breathy laugh before continuing to pace. The information he reviewed was second nature to him and thankfully so, because he remembered little of what he said beyond that point. Tom was certain he'd rushed through several of his concluding notes, but at the clear lack of concentration already present within the lecture hall, he figured few minded.

The end of the presentation was signified by Tom loudly announcing the test date and then moving to immediately turn off the projector. Already the class was packing up their things and the reverent nature of the study session was lost as laptops were shut and everyone scurried for the door. Several of them paused as they exited, taking stock of the woman who had interrupted their professor, causing him distraction for the first time that semester. When the room was nearly empty Sybil headed for the steps and began to slowly descend them. Her feet hit each landing rather heavily but it was only when she appeared before Tom that he stopped what he was doing to greet her. He placed his laptop fully in his bag and met her halfway.

"Hey," he breathed out.

Sybil smirked, unaware of whether his exhale was out of relief or adoration. "Hey," she smirked. "Uh, someone sent me a giant bouquet of flowers this morning. Do you know anything about that?"

Tom threw his head back and released a light chuckle. His hands were in his pockets but the way the two stood now was so casual. "Well it's not like I could sign my name…"

"Of course not," Sybil accepted, still grinning.

"I guess they're a few years late. I always wanted to do that, I just don't know where I would have sent them back then."

"Well they were lovely but completely unnecessary."

"I know they weren't necessary. I just...I missed you and I'm sorry I didn't get to see you before now. I know how that sounds but—"

"S'okay," she breathed out. "Really. The holiday really threw everything off…" Tom said nothing and in the silence Sybil took a step toward him, essentially closing the gap that existed in between. "I missed you too," she revealed, blinking up at him.

Tom's hands fell from his pockets. One clutched her hip and the other cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin of her ear as the two leaned in to share a kiss. When they pulled away and their eyes fluttered open, both smiled before inevitably reattaching.

Sybil couldn't hide the rouge in her complexion, nor could she contain the way her fingers itched when the two detached. "So I was thinking…"

"Dangerous," Tom quipped.

Her lips pursed, adding to the pink color she held high on her cheeks. "Dinner tonight?"

"Something other than fry up?"

"Carry out?" she suggested.

"Ooooh," Tom drawled. "Do I finally get to see Sybil Crawley's flat?"

"You do!" she confirmed with a giggle. "It'll be a good night to meet Walter. Gwen and Will won't be home so he'll be sure to make an appearance in their absence."

Tom thought for a minute, wondering if Sybil's comment on their would-be solitary state was a deliberate one. He nodded anyway as if to dismiss the notion.

"So think about what you want," Sybil continued, "You have my address and I'll see you when I get out at seven?"

Again Tom was nodding. Sybil bit her lip and paused before turning around to walk away. Her actions were slow and when she was halfway up the steps she turned back to look down at him. Her eye contact had him blinking away a memory. "Can't wait," he said.

~!~

They spent the rest of the day texting. All the while William fought the urge to explain to his best friend what happened in her absence. He acknowledged the risk her and Tom were taking and yet he didn't want to warn against it; it was unnerving to see someone who had originally been so against love finally surrendering herself to the very thing.

Sybil's conversation with Tom only stopped when she left work. Her hands held the bouquet close to her chest, making walking rather difficult. William wasn't with her in the way he typically was and she struggled to see the sidewalk without him as her guide. When she sat down on the tube she was able to view the world around her and suddenly she wished she was hidden again. Everyone was staring, as if they too knew the secret she was keeping. She was more than happy to make it to her flat, but she'd only just set the flowers down when there was a knock at the door. Sybil looked to her watch and was puzzled to find far more time had passed than she originally had thought.

Tom was punctual, and yet he found himself resorting to an old habit where he'd apologize to Sybil as if he was the one operating off-schedule. "Sorry…"

Sybil beamed. "No need to be sorry. I just...I need to change." She stepped back to let him inside. As he entered he looked around, most likely keeping his eyes from resting upon hers. Sybil suddenly felt quite self-conscious. Her flat was not nearly as lavish as his was and it actually echoed the one Tom shared with Matthew back in Cambridge. It was warmer and the city each window looked out over was different, but it was still a mess of mismatched furniture and subtle clutter. While Sybil worried what he thought, Tom merely admired each little detail. She was everywhere, but even more so when he followed her toward her room and stepped inside.

In contrast to the rest of the flat, everything beyond Sybil's door was white. There was a desk in the corner and a large window with a seat on the far wall. Unlike her bedroom back in Cambridge, there was no television but she did have an attached bathroom. Tom assumed that Robert and Cora helped her to pay her rent, thus affording her the nicest room. The only bit of color in the room was Sybil's nearby rucksack hanging off the back of her desk chair. There was also a large grey knit blanket folded at the end of her bed and a pudgy orange tabby in the center of the mattress.

Sybil paused, still watching Tom scan his surroundings. Though he teased her for touring his home, he found himself wanting to do the same. His scope of interest was smaller and confined mostly to Sybil's bedroom but he still wore wide eyes, even as he glanced to the cat.

"This," Sybil gestured, "is Walter."

Tom smirked. "I knew it…"

"You did not!"

"Did too!" Tom nodded casually as if to state he'd already won this argument. "Well, I always imagined you'd become a cat lady."

Sybil's eyes narrowed. "Imagined or hoped?"

"Hoped," Tom said. "Definitely hoped."

He didn't ask for permission before sitting on her bed. His shoes were kicked off, allowing him to recline back with ease. With the change in weight distribution Walter stood, arching his back to stretch out his limbs. He didn't leave, however. Instead he walked to Tom and began to nuzzle his shoulder with his head. Sybil could only watch as Tom scratched at Walter's ears, eventually causing the cat to jump upon Tom's lap to give him space to pet him with both of his hands.

When Tom finally looked up, Sybil was already peeling off her shirt. Out of respect, Tom wondered if he should look away. Then his mind shifted, pondering whether or not Sybil's actions were intentional. Was she teasing or was this all still so comfortable for them?

It must have been the latter, because as Sybil stepped out of her scrubs she stood before Tom in nothing but a bra and underwear. "He likes you," she said, nodding toward Walter.

"He's a cat…"

"Cats are choosy," Sybil explained. "But Walter can be downright hateful. He still runs when Gwen and Will enter the room." She paused. "He must like you."

Tom couldn't respond. Already Sybil had turned around. He saw only the curve of her breasts as she turned away from him and pulled a camisole over her head. She stood before her closet in this very outfit, her hands on her hips while her eyes darted about. It gave Tom time to glare as well; Sybil had filled out in both her hips and bust, but her waist remained naturally cinched, giving her a more hourglass shape. Somehow it was all still so familiar to him, especially the freckle she had on her hip and the way her spine dimpled when she bent over to grab for an item from a bottom drawer. She returned with a pair of thin sleep shorts and stepped into them. Still she did not apologize and she was happy for that fact when Tom quirked an eyebrow in question.

"Are we having a sleepover?" he asked boldly. "You should have told me. I didn't pack my pajamas."

Sybil shut her closet door and moved back to her armoire. "Your pajamas are you naked so I didn't think you needed much preparation," she quipped with just as much courage. But her statement had her feeling exposed, more so than her bare skin did. This made it more than easy for her to grab for her Harvard hoodie and toss it over her head. Tom couldn't help but to stare still, even now as it was only her legs revealed to him. Sybil smiled and stood at the door frame, ready to shut off the light. "Ready?"

He nodded and stood up. "I have no idea what I should be ready but sure, I'm ready."

The pair walked back into the kitchen but continued through toward the living room. Sybil plopped down on the couch and took her phone out of her pocket. Already she was scrolling at the screen trying to decide what they would order. It seemed she assumed Tom would just join her on the sofa, doing so in the casual manner in which he'd sat on her bed — the same casual manner that had her practically naked before him.

"What do we want?"

Tom looked to her. "Are you giving me a choice?"

"Of course I'm giving you a choice! This is an equal-opportunity friendship."

"Japanese?" he suggested.

"Nah," Sybil said rather quickly. Tom nodded, as if to accept his fate but already Sybil was giggling. "I'm kidding!" she dragged out. "Japanese sounds good. I haven't had sushi in awhile."

"Alright," Tom breathed out. "What do you want?" he asked. He extended his hand as if to ask for her phone. Sybil paused before giving it to him. "What? Like you're going to make the call?"

"I'll have you know that uni really prepared me for the real world. That's one of the first things they teach you at Harvard," she explained proudly. "Ordering carry out."

Tom chuckled. "I'm sure they do."

Their order was soon placed and not too long after, they were arguing over who would pay for the meal. Tom won, but in a show of her independence Sybil ran to the door to pay the delivery man when he arrived.

"Seee," she said, now returning to the living room with their food in hand. "I've really matured. I even answer the door now."

"Wow, the states really did a number on you."

"You're welcome," she teased.

They ate without incident. At one point Sybil grabbed for something from Tom's plate, only causing him to deflect her actions with a swipe of his own. He quickly popped a piece of sashimi in his mouth and struggled to chew it as Sybil shoved at his shoulder. Laughter came far too easy in such an empty, otherwise silent room.

Soon both retreated to opposite sides of the sofa. They extended their legs, with Sybil's bare feet pressed against Tom's outer thigh in a manner that was anything but apologetic. She sipped at her beer once, then several more times before finally speaking. Tom did as well with neither glancing to their phones or yearning for the background noise of the television. They were oddly content just existing like this.

"I have a question," Sybil finally revealed.

Tom grinned. "This never ends well for us," he noted, "but go ahead."

"You mentioned you had a breakdown—"

"No, I said Emily thought I had a breakdown."

"Alright," Sybil smirked. "Well what was she referring to?"

Tom paused and reached forward to place his bottle on the coffee table. "You really want to know?"

"Of course I want to know! I asked, didn't I?"

Tom sighed out. "I was kind of a mess for awhile…"

Sybil piqued an eyebrow. "A mess?"

"I was drinking a lot and wasn't really taking care of myself."

"Did you get fat?"

Tom couldn't help but to smile. "Yeah, a bit." The pair laughed.

"Well you look good now, so…"

"It was a short breakdown," he explained. "It had to be. I stopped answering everyone's calls and Em came into town to check on me. She just showed up and I was a langered so we started fighting. And that was the night I went to the hospital."

Sybil blinked. "What?"

"My chest pains? They didn't just happen. I actually thought I was having a panic attack. I was on a lot of meds at that point anyway...antidepressants and anxiety meds. Then they thought it was stress and drinking. I mean, what else would it be? But Em was determined. She pulled Rory out of school and they came to live here."

"Just like that?"

"Well this was also right around the time she'd officially filed for full custody of Rory. Her and Pat actually dated for awhile. We were all livid but they made it about two years without any fights...at least none that we saw. Rory doesn't talk much about it so I can only assume that he still wasn't treating them very well. But when it ended, it just ended. Em filed the papers and that was it. Pat didn't really put up a fight. That's why this whole thing with them is still really unsettling. I don't know what it is about him that has her still holding on."

"There's familiarity there," Sybil said simply.

Tom's brow furrowed. "What?"

"She thinks she's damaged goods," she tried to explain. "Pat did all of that to her so he's the only one who can understand what she's been through. And if she loves him, it keeps her from admitting he was a really shit boyfriend. I mean...Rory knows but Em will never admit that Pat is a scumbag, Tom. She just won't do it."

He nodded. "I guess."

"I mean, I don't know, but—"

"No," Tom chuckled. "Apparently you do know."

"Well hopefully this is it, you know? I know it was bad before but she was in pretty rough shape that night."

"Yeah, that's...that's the worst I've seen it."

"But I don't think you can say she moved here just to get away from all of that. Sure, it was convenient but she genuinely cares for you. A lot. And she may say how unfair it is that you're so successful now but I'm sure she'd do whatever she could to make sure that was always the case. You get that, right?"

Tom nodded. "Of course I do."

"I'm glad she was here to take care of you. I mean, I'm mad at you for letting yourself get to that point but I guess we all need a bit of help sometimes."

"I needed a lot of help," Tom jested. Sybil felt sad for him but even she couldn't suppress her smile.

"Why did you do it?" she finally asked.

Tom looked up. "Do what?"

"Stop caring, I guess."

"Because life was shit. I had this great job but that was about it. I had just turned thirty and it was this realization that I really could die alone. And that I had all of this time ahead of me and the only thing I had to show for any of it was a good job and a decent flat."

"Did you really think you'd die alone?"

"I really did. I mean, who…" His voice trailed off.

Sybil nodded. "I get it. We...we don't have to talk about it."

As Tom continued to study her features, he paused. "Can we though? I actually have a question. Er...just something I wanted to tell you."

"Alright…"

"Dr. Frye stopped me the other day. Uh, a few weeks ago. Your birthday, actually," Tom recalled. "When I almost kissed you."

"When we almost kissed?" Sybil asked, practically correcting him. She was happy to accept some of that fault as her own.

"Yeah," Tom accepted. "He just asked if there was anything going on between us and he said he had already talked to you."

"He did. That first day," Sybil confirmed. "What did you say?"

"I lied. What should I have said?"

"I dunno," Sybil shrugged. "You technically could have told the truth."

"No I couldn't have," he scoffed lightly. "I tell the truth and then what happens? You get pulled off the case? I couldn't do that to you. You've worked so hard, Syb. I don't know how or why but you get through this surgery and it sounds like you can have any job you want. I'm not...I would never take that away from you."

"Well…"

"But that doesn't mean it wasn't shit to find that once again I...I mean, me being here, is making things difficult."

"Tom, no…"

"Well it is!"

"It's not!" she tossed back in annoyance.

"I don't know what to do, alright? I need this stupid fucking surgery and yet I don't want to jeopardize your success but your success is riding on this surgery—"

"Tom, stop!"

"I'm not going anywhere," he stated sternly. "If you want what I want then I'm not ever going to walk away again. But I just need you to know that everything I felt before...that didn't go away. I won't forgive myself if I fuck this up for you."

"I will!" Sybil shouted. "I'll forgive you. I...I already have. I've accepted that's an option and I'm honestly trying not to think about it. But I can't forgive you if you go again. I get it, I do, but that's not what I want."

Tom bobbed his head in acceptance. "Me neither. I didn't want it then."

It was Sybil's turn to nod. "I know you didn't."

"I want…" His voice, weak, faded to nothing.

"You can say it, Tom."

"No, it's–" His lips were stilled as he watched Sybil move so she was before him. She reached up, her hand upon his cheek as she began to occupy the space on his lap. Slowly her mouth moved upon his skin, officially insisting upon silence. Tom had no other option but to give in, and he did so with his hands immediately to her waist.

It only encouraged Sybil's behavior and she gave a sharp inhale before finally pulling away. "I want you too."

Tom nodded and they were connected again. Her hands raked at his scalp while they continued to kiss, her knees now resting on either side of him. It allowed her to gently move upon him, especially as Tom's thumb caressed her hip bone, practically inviting her to stay. Soon Sybil's hands were to his chest while her lips assaulted all of the exposed skin of his chin and neck. Tom could only keep his own palms upon her backside, keeping her close while her small hands began to undo the buttons on his shirt.

Sybil was warm but she didn't dare disconnect from Tom. She wanted him to rid her of her sweatshirt and she knew this was what he wanted too, especially as both hands now rested gripping her waist beneath the cotton material. If she could only detach from him long enough, she'd allow him to drag the fabric up and off of her. Sybil was feeling selfish though, and she wasn't yet pleased with her work near Tom's jaw. She bit at his ear, leaving a trail of warm breath all the way down to his collarbone, painting his skin. Her own hands worked beneath his undershirt, finally feeling the irritation he must have felt at being confined in this way.

It was this that had Sybil leaning back. Her hands crossed before her, making quick work of pulling her hoodie off. Tom helped her and when her hair came cascading down in the aftermath, he cupped her face and began to kiss her neck. It was all Sybil needed to melt into him. His lips upon her skin in this way had her cocking her head to the side in surrender. All she could manage was her own hands to his neck, her fingernails barely scraping at his nape while she gave into the way his mouth was loving her.

The two reconnected at the mouth while their hands fought dominance elsewhere. Tom's palm kneaded at Sybil's covered chest and he itched with a want to reach beneath her shirt to touch her there as well. Similarly her fingers danced along the waistband of his boxers. His shirt was pushed up and her hands were upon his skin, first raking up and down the planes of his abdomen before scratching at his chest.

"You okay?" she breathed out.

Tom nodded. "More than okay."

Sybil reached down to cup Tom through the stiff fabric of his jeans. Already he was hard beneath her and she smiled as she licked at his pulse point before whispering in his ear. "I have wanted you for so long now…" Her mouth moved to the other side of his face and Sybil smiled as she saw Tom's eyes still closed. "Even that first day…"

It was all the permission he needed to grab her neck and bring her to him. Sybil giggled as he seized her lips and when they reconnected, he moved to cup her backside and bring her even closer. "Fuck, Syb," he breathed out raggedly. "You can't tell me those things…"

"No?" she asked.

Tom shook his head but was soon kissing her fiercely. She moaned into the sensation, especially when his hips bucked up into hers. "God, I want you…"

She paused — blinking. "Show me."

Tom was breathless. Somehow he moved himself to sit up more, an action that had her pressed to him once again. Without words their mouths demanded other things, fighting for dominance as they moved upon one another with heads that bobbed while hungry fingers continued to explore such familiar territory. Everything was so casual and easy that Sybil struggled to see them as they were now: he a professor and she a doctor — his doctor and someone far too sensible to be allowing such a thing to happen. Like the bouquet that now sat blooming in the kitchen, Sybil yielded to the moment as she marked it as long overdue. His touch felt too good upon her skin and she was proud of herself for remembering him so well.

Tom had similar visions, somewhat innocent ones as he struggled to allow himself to enjoy more of her. This was all the permission he needed, especially as Sybil's fingers now pulled at the exposed waistband of his underwear. Her hands reiterated what she'd already told him: _Show me, Show me, Show me._

When he shifted, Sybil moved with him. Her hands were in lazy surrender, wrapped loosely around his neck while he kissed at her collarbone. His hips continued to roll upon hers, partially in want but also to aid in bringing them to stand. Before Sybil's feet could seek out the floor below, Tom had his hands to her backside, pulling her up onto him. It was an easy task to complete and both followed through with a laugh. Silence only came when Sybil's heels were pressed steadily to Tom's back and their mouths were connected once more.

"Fuck, which way is the bedroom?" Tom mumbled in between kisses.

Sybil detached. Her lips were swollen and she looked as if she was almost shocked by his words. Really, she was somewhat offended to find his mouth apart from her own. "Just keep walking."

Tom wasn't sure if that was an order or an explanation. His skin was electric upon hers and he was starting to think both of them would be happy to have one another against any one of these walls. As he lost his footing they stumbled further down the hallway, almost as if to test this theory. There was more laughter but the two didn't make it many more moments without finding one another again. It seemed there was not enough patience to make up for all of the kisses they'd lost during the years they were apart.

Both Gwen and William's doors were shut making it rather easy for Tom to bring him and Sybil toward her own bedroom. Once inside she kicked at the door and he quickly turned them around so it was her back pressed to the wall. The smile she gave him was practically a growl, one that intensified when Tom tossed off his shirt and returned his hands to his hips. He wore an even nicer watch than he once did and Sybil loved to watch his fingers dance upon her skin while the hands on the clock ticked slowly on.

"Slow down," Sybil whispered.

Tom's hands were tugging at the drawstring on her shorts and while her stomach felt deliciously uneasy at the prospect, she also didn't mind spending the time she needed to catch her breath, raking over him with her eyes, taking all of him in. He had in fact become even more fit. The planes of his chest were more defined and the muscle that covered his heart was far more pronounced than it once had been. She couldn't help but to explore his body with both her hands and her lips. She understood the restlessness that came with waiting for his turn to disrobe her but she hoped he understood her need to adore him like this.

Sybil was now seeing Tom, his ribcage and his heart protected only by bone and tanned skin, as more than just a case study. All at once he was every bit the man she used to love, a man she now felt the very same way toward. Each layer of propriety slipped away the longer they remained flush against one another and she briefly wondered how she'd ever be able to go back and see him as anything so simple ever again.

Moments passed and both silently agreed that they could remain like this forever. Even so, Sybil had other plans, ones that involved separating from him but only so she could drag him toward her bed. Her finger beckoned Tom closer. He moved and was only further encouraged as Sybil rid herself of her camisole. She bit her lip and dropped her hands to her shorts. This was where Tom met her, his hands stilling hers, producing an almost upset glance from Sybil. He smirked and seized her lips once more. When he pulled away, he used his tight grip on her neck to drop his forehead down to hers. "Slow, remember?"

Hurriedly, Sybil nodded. "Then?" she asked, finally allowing her eyes to rest upon his.

Tom smirked and stepped further into her. His grip fell from her neck as his fingers, somewhat clumsy, worked to undo the knot she'd tied around her waist. All the while his concentration was fixed upon her chest, watching her breasts heave with each passing breath. "I missed this…" he almost whispered.

Sybil looked to him, somewhat concerned. "What?"

His glance returned to hers. "Undressing you."

Sybil beamed. She reached out so her nails were upon his bare chest. The way her eyes now avoided his showed Tom that maybe there were parts of her that were still shy. He'd seen her like this before, but to realize that both were still so excited to be exposed like this was a reminder that this moment and hopefully all that would soon follow were not to be taken for granted.

The waistband of Sybil's shorts slackened. The material fell away from her waist but remained upon her hips and was only aided down over the curve of her backside with each of Tom's large hands, slowly caressing each cheek. Sybil's palms were flat upon Tom's chest but she cooed into his ear as more of the night's air kissed her skin. She heard him gruffly laugh, likely pleased with the way she clutched onto him. He also knew what was next, and confirmation of this soon followed when Sybil's digits carefully unclasped his belt and began to undo the buttons and zipper of his jeans.

Sybil sat back on her bed and Tom's eyes darted from her hands to her eyes and then back again. "Don't—"

"You don't even know what I'm going to do," Sybil said with sass.

Tom smiled too. "I do though. We've been here before, remember?"

Sybil's shoulders dropped. "Am I that predictable?"

"Hardly," he said with a chuckle. "You've just never been selfish but right now _I'm_ being selfish and I want you—"

"I want you too," Sybil revealed quickly.

There was a brief pause, one that was ended with Tom kicking out of his jeans just as soon as they hit the floor. All at once he was upon her, his arm shaking as it held his weight off of Sybil to keep from crushing her. Their lips did not part and Tom could only revel in the way Sybil's fingers rested ever so gently upon his jawline. Neither needed much to keep the other close and Tom only wished there was an easier way for him to love her nakedness, one they'd somehow never thought of before.

He was right though; they'd been here many times and it was still as intoxicating as it ever had been. Tom would never tire of the way Sybil's breasts were so firm and yet so easy to cup and how they turned to perfect peaks when he took each nipple in his mouth. He also couldn't apologize for the way he'd done what he asked her not to do with lips that left a sticky trail of open-mouthed kisses to Sybil's midsection. When his mouth reached the hem of her lace underwear he stopped and instead moved to straddle her. She looked so innocent gazing up at him, her hair messily pressed into the mattress below while a somewhat innocent smile pulled at her cheeks. Tom stood back and stepped out of his own underwear. Before she could protest he was before her, using each thumb to drag her panties down her legs. With both bare and free of any secrets, he covered her again. Tom's mouth sought her out rather easily and paused only when he felt her hands discovering him, first cupping his length and then moving to stroke at his sensitive skin.

"Is this too fast?"

Tom's head was thrown back, his mouth unable to procure much more than a negating nod. "Fuck, Sybil…"

She smirked and continued her ministrations. If her touch wasn't so intense, Tom would have been upset at the thought of it keeping them somewhat separated but Tom couldn't protest. If he had, it would have been fruitless. Sybil didn't take him in her mouth but instead pressed the tip of his cock to her center. Slowly she ran her thumb over his head, collecting the beads of pre-cum there and pressing them upon her lower lips. Tom caught on and helped her, his own fingers spreading her to properly coat her skin. He also enjoyed the way she bucked upon his hand when he tapped at her most sensitive spot. Tom rid her mouth of its elation with a kiss pressed to her cheek. She demanded much more from him, and cupped his cheeks as he began to push inside. Both paused, their mouths hot and open upon one another, as Tom settled in further. This was as slow as they had been so far, and Sybil was somewhat happy at that fact. There was a sting of pressure but also a tug at her heart that had her nearly wanting to cry when she realized how much she'd let him in. With both bare-skinned and lustful, she realized how much she'd needed this and in doing so, she resolved not to even consider losing it to ever be an option again.

"Fuck you feel so good..." Tom revealed lowly into the skin of her neck. He sucked on the patch below her ear, mollifying the eggplant-colored skin when he saw just how the pressure of his lips had marked her.

Sybil could only grin, especially now as she felt their heartbeats racing in the stillness. "Move," she whispered, but in a way that had Tom feeling welcome. He smiled too and obliged, thrusting slowly up into her, but with more force than either were used to. There were no complaints from either party, only the touch of Sybil's hands to Tom's backside as she kept him close. Those same fingers soon raked up his back, likely marking the skin there just as he'd done to her neck, this time out of ecstasy.

Tom held Sybil in his arms but was admittedly unhappy with their position. This was how they made love in those early days and weeks that followed their night in Dublin. After both had matured, becoming more and more daring as they continued to lovingly explore one another. Just like all of their other encounters and positions, this one meant as much but did not demand of them all of the trust that came with the magnitude of their love. Though the words were not yet spoken, Tom felt he owed Sybil far more than such a simple connection and he soon insisted upon this as he kept them connected and rolled to turn them over.

Sybil, likely unaware of just how sexy she looked, pushed back at her hairline, stretching her chest to a more perky height while her hair fell down around her face once more. The confidence he'd given her had them both smiling into several more kisses, with tongues that demanded pressure as they danced upon one another. At one point Tom even moaned as Sybil's hands gripped his waist. He was in such euphoria having her this close that he nearly forgot to move for many passing seconds.

Soon, however, he was clutching her entire body, coaxing her to move against him while they now sat upright upon the edge of the bed. No covers shielded their skin and the lights were off, the room just as quiet as the fading city that existed beyond the wide-open window on the far wall. Their pace did not waiver, and with each meeting of their hips, Sybil found herself gripping Tom's neck or pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth that told him to let go. He had asked her not to be selfish and now she was demanding that very thing from him. Even without climax, there was something so incredibly blissful about watching Tom come undone.

Of course he had other plans, and his concentration kept his breathing steady as he continued to insist that she roll her body against his. Their breathing was ragged, and their hips only stilled when Tom bit down on Sybil's shoulder, fighting several shocks that tickled at his spine. He saw the way her own toes curled and smiled as he thrust strongly up into her. Sybil's mouth dropped open near his ear and she nearly cried out. She was so wet Tom couldn't help but to be motivated, thrusting harder up into her causing her mews to become louder. He spilled himself into her and wondered if she was on birth control but he immediately thought better of it. Sybil was always far too smart to let her wants overcome her needs. She was already doing that by letting him be here, inside of her, her body convulsing around him while she hit her own orgasm.

As their bodies shook they both continued to clutch onto one another. Tom's arms enveloped Sybil more strongly as her body quivered with lips that now pressed themselves down onto his shoulder. She wore a smile but it was one he couldn't see and when both composed themselves enough to look to one another, Tom could only admire the guilty grin Sybil wore, the same one his mouth rid her of when he insisted she give him a passionate kiss.

Purposefully, Tom fell back and Sybil came with him. She slowly slid off of him and as he shifted upon her bed, she grabbed for the bedsheets below and worked to awkwardly climb beneath them. This was where Tom met her, his arms enveloping her just as they'd done moments earlier. Still the pair was smiling, making each shared peck seem far less innocent than either intended. Many more kisses followed; sealing all they'd just shared while words seemed impossible. It didn't need an explanation. It was all either wanted and had yearned for since setting eyes on one another several months back.

"Fuck…" Tom finally let out.

His exclamation was met by a giggle from Sybil, her lungs moving in a way that caused the mattress to shake. "Yeah," she nodded before pressing her lips to his neck.

"I missed that. Maybe more than I should have."

"Why do you say that?" Sybil asked, almost worried. "I missed it too."

Tom rolled his head upon her pillow to look to her more fully. "You haven't had sex in forty years," he exaggerated. "Your opinion doesn't count."

Sybil was still on fire and she couldn't manage much other than a wide smile. If anything she was embarrassed, not by what he had said but by the all too apparent truth of their ease in reconnecting. She repositioned herself but was soon stopped by Tom. Just as she placed a hand to his chest, she felt him bringing her close, settling his own palm to her neck while she dropped her head down to the space between his shoulder and face.

"But I mean that…" Sybil soon revealed in a barely-there whisper. "We used to have the best sex and it was good because of how I felt about you and it's good again and I'm happy." It was almost as if the realization was one she'd also just happened upon.

Tom kissed her nose and then returned, blinking up at the ceiling in disbelief. "I'm happy too."

* * *

x. Elle


	19. The Art of Not Knowing

The world Tom woke up to was not the one his sleepy eyes had dismissed the previous night. In the aftermath of it all, it was difficult for he and Sybil to separate so they remained wrapped up in bedsheets, their limbs intertwined and their mouths close so they could whisper secrets and steal kisses. Tom couldn't help but to smooth back Sybil's hair and caress her cheek while she scrunched her nose up in laughter at every amusing thing he said. When the two made love again and the moments after found them filled with nothing but silence, Tom kept a strong hand around Sybil's waist where she placed her fingers atop his to keep him close. What they didn't do was discuss what this all meant — who they were now and if they wanted to be those people together.

Even a nod toward such a sobering topic had Tom's head spinning and as he picked himself up off the mattress, he briefly wondered if he'd somehow consumed more alcohol than he initially remembered. The morning had turned completely to haze and when he glanced toward the window he assumed there was a sun hidden behind all of the clouds. The same sky that had painted their skin in warm shades of blue now lacked all color, existing high above a room of the same where only their littered articles of clothing stood out amongst all of the white.

Tom pushed himself up, moving so he was no longer face-down upon Sybil's bed. As he shifted to sit on the edge of the mattress, he continued to look around, his eyes gracing every surface except for the empty one that existed beside him where the loss of Sybil's petite form had the sheets crinkled and cold. Tom smiled, remembering all of the mornings they used to share and the way he couldn't get out of bed without her stirring. She would turn toward him and immediately reach out for any exposed inch of his skin in an attempt to bring him back to her. The fight Tom would attempt often had Sybil's hand tightly gripping the back of his neck while her lips coaxed him to return. When Tom would give in, he did it with a million intentions, none of which involved returning them both to slumber.

Naked and somewhat groggy, Tom stood and puttered to pick up his clothes. As he slipped back into his jeans and tossed his shirt over his head, he wondered what it was Sybil was wearing. The faint smell of greasy fry-up and hushed murmurs could be heard wafting through her bedroom door. He remembered all of the mornings he woke up to Sybil making him breakfast - her favorite thing to do when the two had Tom's flat in Cambridge to themselves. It was always a bit like a movie, her in his shirt from the night before, her pale gamms disappearing from out beneath the shirt, reappearing only when your eyes caught the brightly colored nail polish she wore on her toes.

This was not the same picture that greeted Tom out in the hallway, and although his presence was still unnoticed, he was thankful he had put all of his clothes back on. In the kitchen, Gwen and Will were cooking and when they turned their heads toward Tom, both shared a knowing smirk before returning to their activities. When Tom decided reentry to Sybil's bedroom was unlikely, the awkwardness that tapped at his shoulder only pushed him further down the hall.

"Where's Sybil?" he asked casually.

"She got called into work," Gwen answered, still not turning to greet him.

"Well did she say anything?"

"I didn't actually see her leave," she said again, this time highlighting her words as she turned off the stove and spun to face Tom. "I thought it was you but you're here now and she's not, so…"

"Does she have work today? I thought—" He thought they could spend their morning much in the same way they had spent their night.

"She's on call," Will explained. "Dr. Frye always calls her first, even if it's my turn or Ben's turn…"

"He's in love with her," Tom said softly and with a laugh. He was somewhat irritated by the sound of his own words, also wondering where it was they had come from.

Gwen moved to put several things on the table in front of Tom but she still avoided his gaze. William remained at the island, momentarily forgetting about his pan of hash to carry on his conversation with Tom. "That's what I said but then one day Ben got me to admit that she's just good at what she does…" He paused. "Did she not leave you a note?"

"No," Tom said, earning a smirk from Gwen as she continued to move around them. "No text either."

"That honestly doesn't surprise me," William said with a shrug.

Gwen sat at the table and finally addressed Tom. "If you plan on sticking around you're going to have to accept that Sybil is committed to her job."

"Yeah, of...of course," Tom muttered. Behind his words was the subtle offense he felt at hearing Gwen question his longevity. In realizing this, Tom wondered if he was agreeing with Gwen's statement or assuring her he'd stay.

"It's likely she'll love her job more than you," Gwen followed quickly.

William turned to Gwen then back to Tom. He was at the table now too, ready to sit. "I don't think that's true. But you definitely have to accept it."

"Well we're—"

"Friends?" Gwen asked. The smile she wore was anything but sweet, and it remained even longer after she bit off her fork, waiting for Tom's response.

"Well, we are…"

"Sure," she smiled. She took a sip of her juice and then placed it back down again. "Friends who have adult sleepovers…"

"She's kidding," Will managed quickly, almost in apology.

"I'm not kidding," Gwen tried with a laugh.

"Alright, well I have to—"

Before Tom could move, Gwen had already stood and walked back toward the kitchen. When she returned, she gave Tom the items she held in her hand: a plate and a ceramic mug of hot black coffee. She also shared with him a smile, this time one that was far more genuine than any she'd showed before. "You should stay for breakfast."

It was William's turn to laugh, and he did so as both Gwen and Tom joined him in sitting at the table.

Though he had quite literally been invited, Tom felt incredibly unwelcomed and grabbing for food from the plates in front of him did nothing but pass the time before conversation would inevitably begin again.

"You don't like me," he said, his voice cutting through the awkward silence with a slight laugh. If Sybil were here she'd tease him for his sudden loss of ego.

Both Gwen and Will looked up but soon Will realized he would be a participant in all of this, especially as Gwen shifted upon her seat and exhaled before answering. "I don't like what you did," she confirmed simply.

"Did you like me when you first met me?"

She looked away. "I did."

"It meant a lot to Sybil that you were supportive. She didn't…"

Gwen nodded. "I know."

Tom nodded too, his eyes wide and his actions slow as if to show how helpless he felt re-acknowledging old news. "And we've already established that you don't like me," he stated, finally looking to William.

"I don't know you," he corrected.

"We spend ten hours a week together…"

"Alright well I'm choosing not to know you."

"You told me what kind of tea Sybil was drinking…"

Gwen looked to William, slightly upset and now demanding an answer. "I only confirmed what you already knew," he dismissed lightly. Everyone looked away, returning to their meals. Metal against ceramic filled the quiet until finally William dropped his fork, causing both Gwen and Tom to look up. "You mean a lot to Sybil so I guess I'm going to have to work on that."

"She means a lot to me," Tom assured. "She's...she's the best."

"We know," Gwen gritted.

"I don't—"

"Listen Tom." Gwen exhaled, "She's clearly forgiven you and she's done that because she really didn't have a choice. You and I both know how she feels because it's how she's always felt. She can't control herself around you because she never could. But I'm here to be her voice of reason. I'm here to be on guard for her."

"And I'm here because I pay rent and Gwen makes good pancakes," Will delivered with a cheesy grin.

Tom forced a smile in appreciation. "I get it, I do but I wish Sybil could do that for herself. Or, I guess I wish she didn't have to do it at all."

"She should but she can't. Like William said, I have to respect her and believe that this time this is going to work out—"

"I spent the night," Tom tried, feigning innocence.

Gwen's eyes narrowed. "I may be hesitant to trust you but I know you know Sybil just as well as I do and you saying that only confirms how she feels about you. This isn't casual and I hope you know that—"

Slightly ashamed, he looked away. "Of course."

"I'm always going to have what you did in the back of my mind. You can make Sybil the happiest she's ever been but there's still a tiny part of me that's always going to hate you...because she can't. She never did, apparently. But I did. Mary did."

"I didn't know about you," William explained casually.

This time Tom did not smile. "I never wanted to hurt her, Gwen."

"But you did. And I was there to pick up the pieces and that was shit."

"I...I don't know what to say, Gwen. You're right. I was a prick and what I did was wrong and I can't take it back. But I am doing my best to make this up to her. I'm not taking any of this for granted and I'm doing what I can to prove myself to her. I want to be with her and—"

"Have you told her this?"

"No," Tom gave with a shake of his head. "I don't want to scare her…"

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Mary's wedding is coming up. She's going to be even busier. Are you going to tell her before then?"

"I'd like to think she knows. But yeah, of course, I'll tell her when I can...when it feels right."

"You may be waiting for a long time. She might not be that patient."

Tom wanted to make a joke, to comment on how patience was hardly an issue after almost eight years. He smiled, realizing that even in all of his disadvantages, he and Sybil had still shared a bed last night.

"Sybil and I have a lot of our best moments in really unconventional places," he recounted, as if speaking to her instead of her two best friends. "Uni parties, Dublin pubs…"

"Hospitals," William added. All of the humor his voice previously possessed was now replaced with pure genuineness. It seemed that Gwen and he had differing positions, most likely influenced by the fact that William didn't know Tom all those years ago. Then again, he didn't know Sybil then either and he wondered if the girl she was then was the same woman he now called his best friend.

With a newfound confidence, Tom sat back. "I don't know what I can do to change your opinion, Gwen. I wish I could but I'm also accepting that's unlikely but I'm not giving up. I don't care how that sounds but I'm not. She's given me another chance and I'm grateful. Loving her," he said boldly, "is really, really easy."

There was a deafening pause. "Alright," she said with a change of voice. "Good answer. Now please get out of my flat and enjoy your walk of shame home."

"We didn't—"

Gwen stood up from the table, her chair scraping the floor below in a cacophonous manner. "You two are shit liars," she dismissed. "Just go."

~!~

When Matthew awoke, he too was surprised to find the space beside him empty. He looked up, blinking slowly in an attempt to ration the rays of sun that now poked at his eyes. Mary stood at her dresser, staring at the mirror before her while she secured her earrings on each lobe.

"I thought you were taking the day off with me," Matthew tried. He did so while taking in his fiance's appearance - a tight pair of jeans and a blazer that hid the stomach she swore was swelling. It wasn't her typical work attire, but it also told him she had no plans of returning to bed anytime soon.

Mary turned to him and gave a smile. "I was...I will. I just have some things I have to take care of."

Matthew got himself out of bed and padded toward her. He wore boxers and his hair was nothing short of a mess. He went to her and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "Things?"

"Yes, things."

"Work things?"

"Not work things."

Matthew placed a soft kiss to Mary's cheek. "Alright," he accepted. "Is everything okay then?"

Mary nodded, suddenly second guessing her plans. "Fine," she resolved. "We can talk about it tonight?"

"Are we still meeting with the florist?"

She beamed and pressed a palm to Matthew's cheek in appreciation. "Yes, darling, we are. Good memory."

He detached from her and walked to the closet to grab his clothes for the day. "I don't need a good memory when I have a wife who refuses to let me forget anything."

Mary went to him, beaming, as she draped her arms around his neck. "Wife?"

Matthew grinned and stopped only when Mary pressed her lips softly against his. "I'm excited for the wedding but I'm getting impatient. Why did I wait so long to propose again?"

"You knocked me up. We had no choice," she quipped.

Matthew chuckled but his grip around Mary did not soften. "For all the rubbish—"

"Matthew, darling, please…"

"I'm just saying that things weren't always perfect and then they were and I think if everyone wasn't expecting so much, I probably would have forgotten about a wedding."

Mary quirked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I've always felt like your husband but parenthood is a new thing for us and I can't wait to tell everyone about the baby. I think that's what I'm most excited about."

Another hand was pressed to Matthew's cheek, giving Mary plenty of leverage to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Me too."

~!~

It wasn't a walk and Tom felt no shame when he drove back to his flat. At each traffic light he checked his phone, spending the time in between wondering if instead of waiting for Sybil to reach out to him, he should just call her. He was still in such shock that he struggled to truly enjoy all that they had shared and this was becoming more and more difficult the longer silence existed between them. He assumed she was at work and he smiled as he fondly thought of how hard she was surely working. At the same time, he selfishly wished she'd never left their bed that morning, his mind and heart still buried beneath her sheets even as he drew closer to his own home.

When he entered his building, Tom gave a nod toward the doorman, thankful he was not the same man that wished Tom farewell when he'd left for Sybil's the previous night. Tom was far from embarrassed, but he still felt dirty, likely a nod toward his longing for the showers he and Sybil used to share on the mornings following similarly intense nights. He looked to his watch as he stepped onto the lift, realizing that it was barely eight o'clock and already his mind was spinning. His thoughts were consumed with her, causing him to forget the steps that took him off the elevator and into his flat. Even when Tom shut the door and walked toward the stove to put the kettle on, he was ignorant to the current state of his own home.

"Rough night?"

Tom turned toward the voice, forcing a smile in apology before he even knew who it was he was addressing. "Not quite," he said with another smirk.

Rory took her uncle in. She'd never seen him broken; she'd only ever heard the stories and understood the magnitude of his pain when her mother abruptly moved them to London. Though she was younger then, she'd put the pieces together, understanding now how he handled his pain. Somehow this was different and though her mother had worried last night, Rory now knew such stress was useless.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Grand." Tom looked around. "Where's your mum?"

"Upstairs."

"Do you need a ride to school?"

She shook her head. "Mum says she'll take the train with me."

"Good."

Rory paused again, her eyes narrowing. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Tom sighed. "Just a weird day."

"It's not even eight yet…"

"Then it's about to be a very long weird day, yeah?"

Tom turned back to the stove. Again he checked his phone and before he could even witness its blank screen the kettle began to screech, pulling him back to the present.

"Uncle Tom?"

The air became stuck in Tom's throat as he turned back to his niece, his mouth dropped open. He was so wrapped up in his own mess he didn't even realize she had yet to leave. "What's up Ror?" Maybe it was his turn to ask if she was okay.

"I heard you and Mum arguing the other night. I didn't even know…"

There was a pause as Tom did his best to recount the conversation and all the siblings had said. Instead what his mind focused on was the way Sybil took care of him and how they fell asleep together immediately after. His time without her seemed to be lost in syncopated blanks and gaps.

"What?"

"She shouldn't have brought me into any of that and I'm not blaming her...she was going through a lot and I don't care, I guess," she rambled, "I'm just saying that I didn't even know Sybil had been spending the night here and even if I had, I wouldn't care."

Tom placed his mug down and sighed. "I get what she's saying, Ror."

"Yeah, but it's Sybil...so I don't."

He forced a smile. "I'm going to need you to start being on your mum's side around here…"

"I'm always on her side. But I can be on her side and be on your side too."

"How about you be sixteen and be on your own side? What do you think?"

Rory looked away. She pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear while she continued to avoid her uncle's gaze. "I have my shit together."

Tom chuckled. "Yeah, you do, don't you?"

"Not really," she said, rolling her eyes. "Pretty sure I failed an exam last week. And I don't want to go to practice but I'm going to go because I know I'll feel better after I do. Normal stuff."

"Well don't concern yourself with the arguments your mum and I have."

"Fine," she sighed. "But for the record, I like Sybil and I don't mind if she's around more often."

Tom leaned back and smirked. "She likes you too."

"Yeah well I get the impression Sybil's the type of girl who likes everyone."

"Not true," Tom dismissed. "She wasn't too fond of me for awhile."

"But apparently she's been staying here so I'd say that's hardly relevant now, yeah?"

Tom tossed a laugh over his shoulder. "Well for the record, I like Sybil too."

There was commotion upstairs, the heavy thuds of trainer-covered feet loudly hitting each step on the staircase. Emilee entered and the calm moment shared between her daughter and brother in the kitchen demanded she slow down as well.

"We okay?" she asked.

Rory gave Tom a smile and then left, bringing her own mug of tea back to her room. Emilee watched her go. Previously she'd been so wrapped up in answering emails and getting ready for the day but now she existed outside of herself, ready to take care of everyone around her even if at the detriment of herself.

"What's going on?" she inquired, now with a furrowed brow and a thumb tossed over her shoulder.

"Nothing."

"Where were you?"

Tom laughed again. "Out."

There was a beat of silence, enough time for Emilee to observe her brother. "Did you have sex?"

There was another chortle and in feeling his cheeks turn warm, Tom turned back toward the stove to pour himself another cup of tea. "You told me I couldn't have guests here so me and my guests went somewhere else," he explained with his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek.

Emilee scrunched her face upward in distaste. "You're disgusting!"

"I'm kidding…"

"You better be! I don't miss that version of you and I won't pretend that's not the case!"

Tom took a step in toward his sister. With his tea brewing, he crossed his arms over his chest. "You know, what is it to you?"

"What is it to me? You have a heart condition, Tom. You're about to have massive surgery and I know that's affecting far more than your cardiovascular system. I know how you get and I know how quickly your behavior becomes unhealthy."

"Em, it was one night."

"Were you with Sybil?"

"Wow, _Mam_ , I don't think that's any of your business."

Her arms were crossed over her chest too and she rolled her eyes. "I'm worried about you, Tom."

"You're not worried, you're nosey!"

"I didn't ask who you were with, Tom! I just…" She quieted her voice. "I just asked if you were with Sybil."

"And if I wasn't?"

"Then you're even more daft than I thought."

"What's that mean?"

"It means that I worry about you—"

"You said that already," Tom said, sighing out. "Listen Em, I didn't ask you to move here. Despite what you think, you're not here to watch after me. If that's what you want to believe, that's fine, but—"

"For fuck's sake, Tom, will you let me finish?" She sighed too. "I worry about you, Tom. You're my brother and I always will. But I worry less with Sybil around. I…" She exhaled, as if to admit defeat. "I like Sybil, Tom. She's lovely. Really. And she clearly makes you happy. Even after all this time...she's everything I should want for you and I do. So what I'm trying to say is that I hope you're not fucking around on her."

"I'm not," Tom assured. His voice was stronger now. "I was at her place last night. I'm...I'm sorry if you worried. I mean, thanks, I guess. But I don't know how I would have avoided that. I can't exactly contact you every time I spend the night with her."

Emilee looked away. Her lips were pursed and she was somewhat shy to be talking to her brother like this. He knew of her shortcomings with Pat and she teased him relentlessly about the years he so carelessly gave himself to women he barely knew. What the two had never discussed was what could exist beyond all of this — what for Tom now did exist beyond all of it. Not once had the siblings ever even acknowledged that the loving relationship their parents shared was something each of them could have on their own.

"Please don't muck this up, would ye?"

"Yes, Mam…"

"I'm serious, Tom. I think she'd be good for you." Then she smirked. "Actually, she's probably _too_ good for you."

Tom broke too, shown by the wide grin he now wore. "Aye." But he caught a glimpse of Emilee's indifference and he sighed before attempted to coax it out of her. "You okay?"

Her nod came far too quickly. "Yeah," she exhaled. "Just getting used to this whole being alone thing again. I guess I've accepted it. This is my life."

"This is your life _right now_ ," Tom corrected.

"And if it never changes? If I try and try and I'm still alone?" There was an earnest curiosity in her words and Tom was nearly rendered speechless in response to their sound.

"I thought that was my life for a bit. I'm not going to say it's not shit but just when I thought nothing would change, everything did."

~!~

Mary looked up from her menu at the woman that sat before her. Already she knew what it was she wanted to order; she'd decided on her favorite belgian waffle dish last night before she had even made the call to set this very reservation. Perhaps it was her sudden inclination toward unhealthy food that had her stomach swelling, and not the unborn life that hid inside.

The women sat high above London and all around them the room buzzed with a quiet energy. While Emilee looked at her own menu, Mary took her in. Emilee was tall, though not as tall as her. Her hips curved far more than Mary's own but she was still thin, allowing for a chiseled chin and perfectly plump cheeks. Between noticing the cross necklace Emilee wore around her neck and the dark liner that smudged around her eyes, what Mary consistently returned to was the girl's blonde hair. Really, she looked nothing like Tom, and in discovering this Mary wondered if this conversation would occur in the way she originally imagined.

Unlike Mary, Emilee did not look up from her menu. As she contemplated whether or not to order breakfast or lunch, she spoke, her eyes still not meeting Mary's. "Why are you staring?"

"I'm not staring."

"You're staring," she finally said, now closing her menu and shifting upon her seat. When her glance caught on Mary's she smirked and then sat forward to grab for her tea. Her lips remained pursed even after the warm beverage was sipped and swallowed.

Mary's gaze narrowed. "Why did you agree to come?"

"Honestly?" Emilee scoffed. "The food here is good and my life's been a bit crazy lately so I figured why not throw another layer in?" When Mary said nothing, Emilee's face fell and took her voice with it. "You have no idea what I'm talking about..."

Mary inhaled sharply. "Should I?"

"Well Sybil knows so—"

"My sister is my absolute best friend but I'm about to be married and she has a lot going on as well. We don't tell each other everything anymore. There's simply no time for it." Then, while treading lightly, Mary continued. "Did something happen between you two?"

"No," Emilee delivered with a slight shake of her head. "Not at all..."

Mary rolled her lips inward and nodded. "Sybil's good at keeping secrets."

"Yeah? Well I wasn't very fooled when Tom brought her home with him."

"Neither was I but that's not what I mean. I guess what I should say is she's good at keeping other people's secrets. Actually, come to think of it...before Tom came along she was quite open."

"Could you blame her?"

"A bit, yes. Sybil didn't lie before Tom. With him it's second nature."

Emilee sat back in her chair with her hands in her lap. "Alright well if she had told you about their relationship, what would you have said?"

"I don't know, to be honest. She didn't give me that option," Mary stated indignantly, clearly still bitter.

"You're kidding right? My brother told me you don't like him."

Mary's forehead creased. "Tom knows you're here?"

"Of course not. But when he called things off with Sybil all those years ago he came back to our hometown in Ireland for a bit. He told me everything...or most of it, I assume. I think he was happy just to have it out, honestly. Sybil was the only one who knew what he'd been dealing with and she wasn't there anymore."

Mary looked away as if to ask _And whose fault is that?_ But she persisted, possibly to cover up the jealousy she felt at realizing Sybil still had yet to share her side of things with her own sister. "Well, that's not true," Mary said, silently acknowledging that hurt and then deciding brunch with someone you barely knew was not the best place to sort those emotions out.

Emilee quirked an eyebrow. "No? He seems to be pretty sure of that one."

"I don't like that he took advantage of my sister at a uni party—"

"Took advantage?"

"She was young..."

"Then why was she there?"

Mary paused. "I guess it's not about Tom it's just that he happens to be the one to change Sybil and that's the part I don't like."

"So her lying? You don't like her lying?"

"I suppose that's correct."

"But were they happy?"

"Are you asking me?"

"I am. Because when they were in Ireland she looked pretty damn happy. And that was when they were hiding things. Imagine how much more apparent that'd be if they were public with everything."

"Sybil didn't talk much about Ireland."

Emilee chuckled. "Yeah she strikes me as the type of girl who says nothing if she doesn't have any nice to say."

"That's Sybil. Why...should she not have nice things to say?"

"You really don't know any of this?"

"No," Mary said with more volume, "and I'd like for you to please stop acting so shocked. It's making me feel bad."

"I'm sorry, I just...I was not very nice to her. Honestly, I was a downright hag. I said some pretty nasty things. I was the one who put the idea of Harvard in her head."

"Does Tom know that?"

"Of course he does. He liked the idea more than she did. He helped her with her application, you know."

"Yeah, that's what she told my parents they were doing when she'd disappear with him. I shudder to think..." Mary rolled her eyes as she sat forward and grabbed for her water. Though she'd soon be a wife and mother she was still on good terms with the naive girl she used to be.

"Yeah, don't. Tom didn't come home last night so..."

"And?"

Emilee forced out a laugh in disbelief. "And he went to your sister's flat."

"Oh god..."

"You know, I can't really tell whose side you're on. Sybil's I assume, but yet you wanted to meet me and you say you don't dislike Tom but you've done little to prove that to me...have you ever asked her how she feels?"

"I don't...of course I have," Mary resolved strongly, perhaps to convince herself as well.

"Well Tom would do anything for her. I know most sisters talk about what great guys their brothers are but I mean it. You're absolutely right, Sybil changed him but in the best way possible. He's even better now...I don't understand it, really."

"So whose side are _you_ on?"

"Tom's. But I'm coming around to the idea of Sybil."

"Am I allowed to ask you why there seems to be a delay?"

"I've had a lot of shit happen to me in my life and it's really hard for me to accept that people like Sybil exist. She's just so...nice. I think I thought she was being disingenuous but—"

"No, I'm afraid that's just Sybil," Mary confirmed, laughing in dismissal. "If she was nice to you, she likes you. That's it. Though I will admit the flip side is true. Yes, she's unbearably sweet but she can be edgy if she needs to be."

"I think she gave Tom a bit of that."

"Well Tom deserves it."

"Deserved, I'd say," Emilee corrected. "I would agree with that. But—"

Mary sighed. "I guess I reached out to you so I could feel less crazy. I know it seems like I'm overprotective of my sister but like you said, she's special. Most days we have nothing in common but she made sure I was happy and though I have a poor way of showing it, that's all I'm trying to do with her."

Emilee set down her water but still puckered her lips just as she had when sipping at her straw. "What are you saying?"

"Is Tom going to bail again?"

Emilee laughed. "I think if Sybil gives him another chance that won't ever be an option. I know it doesn't make sense and I think he's an absolute nutter for doing what he did but he just wanted what you wanted...for Sybil to be happy. Maybe, like you, his way of doing that isn't the best but it seems you to have the same goal here."

"And if they do get back together...is that okay with you?"

"Is that okay with you?" Emilee tossed back immediately.

"I asked you first."

"I just want my brother to be happy. He deserves it. He always has. He deserves a girl like Sybil."

"I just want her to be happy..."

"Why are you so against Tom? I promise I'm not biased when I say he's got a lot going for him. He's handsome and he has a good job. He's independent and ridiculously smart. He's family oriented...I mean, he'd do anything for me and my daughter. He has, really. He's a good person and a really great man."

Mary shrugged. "I don't know. When Tom came into my life I had a lot going on. I was young too, I guess. He and I have nothing in common and back then he was working for a professor I hated. He was better than me at a lot of things, I suppose. Maybe I was insecure, I really don't know."

"Well you do have a few things in common. You both love Sybil and would do anything for her to be happy."

~!~

After brunch, Mary and Emilee walked out of the restaurant quietly, doing so now more as friends than strangers. Mary had her hands stiffly stuffed into the pockets of her tight jeans, contrasting greatly with the casual nature Emilee held, especially as she finished a text and put her cell phone back into her purse.

"Do you have kids?" she asked.

Mary gave a smile. "No," she said sweetly. "Still have to get married."

Emilee smiled too. Such statements used to offend her; now she was amused by them. "Well they're a lot of work."

"How old is your daughter?"

"Seventeen."

"Oh, wow…"

"Yeah, I skipped marriage. Skipped graduation, too."

Mary was so embarrassed she nearly stopped walking. "I didn't mean…"

"No, it's fine, honestly," Emilee brushed off. "Thankfully she's nothing like I was. But again still a lot of work. Wait as long as you can. Enjoy your marriage and your career and—"

"I'm pregnant," Mary blurted out, instantly stunned by her own words.

Emilee's eyes widened too. "Well then."

"I'm bloody terrified."

She laughed too. "Don't be...how's your fiance?"

Mary was thankful for change in course, and was even happier to find it gave her time to pause and think of Matthew. "He's wonderful. Just...I'm very, very lucky."

"You'll be fine. I mean, Rory's dad wasn't really around and I was. Family helps a lot."

Mary swallowed and forced another small smile. "Thank you."

Emilee chuckled. "I won't tell anyone…"

"It's...I don't care at this point. I'm happy about it. We have been since I found out."

"Well congrats! Really, I mean that. And I'm not just saying this but I wouldn't trade Rory for the world."

"Well of course…"

"She's honestly the best thing that's ever happened to me. So a lot of work, but worth it."

Mary pursed her lips in acceptance. "Got it."

The women were at the top of the steps leading down to the tube. Mary had offered a ride to Emilee but was turned down. She assumed Emilee had done many things on her own and now found the familiarity of her singularity to be comforting. Mary wasn't offended; if anything she was somewhat jealous. All her life Mary felt as if she'd needed someone, and while she adored Matthew and couldn't imagine her world without him, there was something utterly terrifying about that reality.

"Well you have my number now," Emilee joked, bringing Mary out of her reverie. "I'm serious...give me a call and let's do this again. I don't really have friends here...I really don't have friends honestly...but it was nice to go out with someone who's not family."

"We may be family soon," Mary said casually. This time her words did not shock her.

Emilee nodded slowly as if to accept this fact. "I suppose that's true."

Another set of smiles was shared, this time lacking any and all forms of discomfort. Emilee turned toward the stairs but her presence was soon insisted upon by Mary once more. "Emilee, wait!"

"Yeah?"

"I…" She sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead. "I'm going to be mad at myself if I don't ask."

"Alright then," Emilee accepted, now with hands crossed over her chest. "Out with it."

"When I asked if Tom was going to bail what I meant was…"

"Yeah?"

"Is he...will he die? With this operation...I just don't know...is that a possibility?"

Emilee paused. In realizing this was likely the first time she had been faced with the question, Mary suddenly felt bad. "That's why you invited me?"

"Well I couldn't exactly ask that over the phone," Mary said flippantly.

"Um...honestly, I'm not sure. We don't...I haven't even thought of that."

"He hasn't said anything?"

"No. I mean, of course not. And he wouldn't."

"He wouldn't?"

"Would you?" Emilee asked.

Mary paused. "I suppose not. I'm not sure."

Emilee sighed out. "He really doesn't talk about it much. He just talks about Sybil."

"When I asked if he was going to leave, that's what I meant. How serious is all of this?" She inhaled sharply. "Maybe the correct question is am I going to have to watch Sybil lose him again?"

There was a beat of silence. Emilee was far too overwhelmed with Mary's inquiry to even begin searching for answers. She sympathized with the love Mary must have for Sybil to invite her here and ask something so bold. It was the same love she had for Tom, the very same emotion that had her throat tight at the mere thought of him anywhere but present in her life.

"I...I'm sorry but I really don't know."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Reviews would be much appreciated!

x. Elle


	20. Bean an tí

Tom felt like he had a hangover and as he walked past the lecture rooms and down the hallway he was reminded of the rather painful way he used to trudge to class after a night of heavy partying. He carried in his hand a fresh cup of black coffee and his messenger bag was resting gently on his shoulder. In it, his laptop and an entire file of exams to grade. In his back pocket was his phone, the last thing for him to set down upon his desk once he entered his office. All morning it had vibrated and buzzed, showing him only emails and social media updates; no contact from Sybil.

Tom slumped in his chair with legs that stretched out in front of him as he scrolled through his phone before inevitably returning to his text messages. He clicked on Sybil's name and watched as their last conversation appeared. He had told her he was en route to her flat and she didn't respond. Tom didn't mind her silence then. Soon after the two told one another all of their remaining secrets, continuing to do so even after they had made love.

His thumb hovered, the cursor blinking while he thought of what to say.

 _I miss you,_ his text said. But quickly Tom deleted the words, knowing it was too bold a sentiment even after their shared night.

He tried again: _Hey._ That too was deleted. Sybil deserved more than such a conventional greeting; she deserved more than a man who was so shocked by her capacity for forgiveness that he couldn't even speak.

 _Call me?_ came next. But the urgency in his words could have been misconstrued. He didn't want her first thought of him to be one of panic. Last night she had made a joke about how fast his heart was beating and Tom didn't want her to ever see that rhythm as a bad thing.

Tom sighed out. For a moment his phone rested on his knee as he reached up to rub at his eyes from beneath his glasses. Finally, and with a scary amount of resolve, Tom picked up his phone and began to type. _When can I see you?_ his fingers asked. Unfortunately they didn't commit. Before they were given the chance to, the telephone on his desk rang. Tom had no time to decide if he was thankful or frustrated by the interruption, especially as he clicked off the device and sat forward.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Branson, there's a Ms. Crawley here to see you," the department's secretary explained.

Tom closed his eyes and breathed out. "Grand. Send her in please."

He tossed his phone in the top drawer of his desk and just before he could stand to greet her he found himself grounded in his chair. It was not Sybil, but instead a different Crawley girl. The heels she wore were telling, almost as typical as the sly grin that spread across her face. Mary always looked like she had a secret and that fact kept you interested until she had time to actually uncover one.

His energy deflated. "Oh."

"Yes, _oh_ ," Mary confirmed as she kicked his door stop away and let the wooden door shut. Though she carried nothing but confidence, there were parts of her that felt utterly uncomfortable being here. The last time her and Tom were in an office together, he had just broken Sybil's heart and somehow it was she who was being scolded for withholding information from her father.

Just like her handling of the door, Mary didn't ask if she had permission to sit down. "We need to talk," she said sternly as she set her expensive handbag near her feet.

Already Tom was sitting back in his chair, preparing for a fight. "Do we?"

"We do," she said simply. Her hands pulled at the lapels on her blazer as she shifted to correct her posture. "And can you please not have an attitude with me?" she spat, losing just an ounce of her composure.

Tom chuckled, allowing the action to move him forward. "Everytime I see you, you've done nothing but make me feel like absolute garbage about myself. I'm not good enough for Sybil. I get it. I think that's the only thing we'll ever agree on."

"Can I speak please?"

"Have at it," Tom stated, gesturing toward his desk as if to show her the proper space for her words.

Mary exhaled heavily. "I'm getting married soon—"

"Yes. I'm reminded every time I go to the grocer's," he stated, referring to the many magazines that were already speculating on Mary and Matthew's secret ceremony.

Mary's eyes narrowed in genuine confusion. "I'm glad you're an adult and can shop for yourself," she said, almost in question. "What am I supposed to say to that?" When Tom said nothing, Mary continued. "Sybil was supposed to go with William but William has work the day we're supposed to leave and it's leaving Gwen at a table by herself and my numbers are uneven."

Tom was patient. He sat with his legs crossed, his hands clasped and close to his mouth with fingers that occasionally tapped at his lips. Though he believed he knew where Mary was going with this he was still shocked when she revealed her plan.

"I'd like for you to come," she gave. There was wholehearted relief in her delivery. That, Tom assumed, was her secret. "Or rather, I want you to be Sybil's date. I never thought in a million years that you'd be attending my wedding but here we are. I didn't get Sybil anything for her birthday and I blamed it on all of this wedding planning but I knew what I wanted to get her and was just gathering the courage."

Tom smirked and his hands fell. "Thank you, but do you think she wants me to be there?"

"Oh please! I may not think you deserve her but even I can't deny that she's absolutely in love with you."

Again he was smiling. "You're the third person who has told me that today."

"And she hasn't?"

"No. Why is that so shocking? I fucked up and I'm still working to fix all of that."

"Maybe you won't get that for awhile. I don't know. But I've warned my parents that you're going to be around now and we're all working on accepting it. You're wrong in thinking we only agree on one thing. Sybil means a lot to all of us. She's relentlessly kind and compassionate and she has the best heart of anyone I know. We just want her to be happy and it seems she is...just like she was then," she admitted with a noticeable amount of hesitation. "I shouldn't...I shouldn't have been as hard on you. She deserved love then and she certainly deserves it now. If she believes you're the person she's meant to spend the rest of her life with then I need to respect that and support her in any way I can."

Tom's brow furrowed. "By inviting me to your wedding?"

Mary's eyes widened and the normally attractive face she wore turned sour as her gaze darted about his office, even causing her body to twist upon her chair. "Are you sure you have your PhD? You're slow on the uptake."

Tom let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah well my life these past couple of months has been a bit surreal."

"I bet. I'm glad you're not taking it for granted then. And you better not fuck this one up," she delivered without apology.

"Of course not…"

"And what I'm about to tell you is confidential information so if this leaks—"

"It's a wedding, Mary…"

"No, it's my wedding and it's going to be the best day of my life. Play along or I'm retracting the invitation," she ordered before finishing with a smile.

"Okay then…"

"It's May 28th in Scotland. Matthew and I have rented a castle and the surrounding properties—"

"Feckin' Christ…"

Mary stopped speaking and looked to him. There was no sense of amusement on her face and Tom briefly saw what it would be like to be Mary Crawley's child. Then he wondered if Matthew received the same treatment in the interim.

Soon though, she was continuing as if she hadn't been interrupted. "We want our family and friends to enjoy this as much as we will. We'll be on the island for a week. We get in Wednesday night and the wedding is on Saturday. There are pre-wedding things beforehand and then time for everyone to do as they please after. And again, because Sybil has deemed you worthy, I'm allowing her to take you."

"Do I have to reserve a room, or…"

More anxious air was dispelled past Mary's lips and Tom wondered if she would have enough oxygen left in her lungs to make it through this meeting. "Despite my parents' protests, you'll be sharing Sybil's room...it's a cabin, actually." She looked to him, her features as unmoving as his own. "Now let's move on to the next topic before I lose my lunch. All I need you to do is purchase your ticket."

"For the same flight?"

"Oh no, darling, don't be silly," Mary practically sang with condescension. "Immediate family will be flying over on one of my grandmother's charters. But this is a surprise, remember? I just need you to buy your own ticket and I need you to keep your mouth shut so Sybil has no idea. I suspect this won't be a problem because I know how much that watch on your wrist costs," she stated simply, with eyes that only barely glanced to the gold object. "Anyway! She deserves to have a good time and I know she'll be overjoyed if you're there." There was a beat. "I've honestly learned to stop questioning it."

"Thank you—"

"But I swear to God if you do anything to hurt her, ever again, I will kill you with my bare hands."

"Yeah, I'm sure Gwen and Will will let help you bury my body."

Mary didn't laugh, she only blinked. "William," she corrected.

Tom's brow furrowed. "He lets me call him Will."

Mary practically rolled her eyes. "Oh God. Well he typically only allows Sybil to do that. See? We make sacrifices for the people we love. Now," she began, quickly bringing herself to her feet, "this is cutting into my final meeting with my florist. Remember, we're not speaking of any of this. If you mention that you know where it is or when it is, she'll know we've talked."

"Mary, I can keep a secret."

She was headed for the door but she turned back. "Yes, you wanted to keep your relationship with my sister so badly that you ended it." Tom could only look at her; it seemed the night he had shared with Sybil had him unwavering. "Sorry," she mumbled. "That was uncalled for. If you have any questions, ask William."

"He knows?"

"He and Gwen both do. I had to check to see if it was okay with him and then they both helped me to sort out the details."

"She's lucky to have you."

"I know," Mary confirmed, now with her shoulders back and her attention fixed on the brass doorknob she reached out for. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

With his hands in his pockets, Tom stood, watching her go. "Thanks, Mary. You too." But then: "Oh! And congratulations!" She turned to him, blinking. "On the baby," he explained, only causing Mary's eyes to widen in horror. "I can keep a secret," Tom chuckled. "Your sister, apparently, cannot."

Mary was so embarrassed she stormed off, nearly slamming Tom's door shut in the process. The privacy allowed him to collapse back in his chair and laugh. Such humor only died down when he reached for his phone again and saw it lacked missed messages of any kind; Sybil still had yet to reach out.

~!~

Even on the tube, and then as she shrugged into her starched lab coat, Sybil could still feel Tom's touch on her skin. Just that morning he had grabbed her hips, pulling at her waist so she was flush against him. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him before burying her giddiness into her pillow. Such an action would have been a bold one had the pair not been here so many times before; so comfortably naked their minds ached with the thought of having to get out of bed and dress. There was also a smaller thought, one that terrified them; this all felt too familiar, as if their time apart passed in mere seconds instead of years. Neither could decide if the notion was a sad or happy one.

With her eyes closed, Sybil rolled her head, remembering how he'd pushed aside her hair and pressed many kisses to the nape of her neck. His hands carried pressure, and as he applied it down onto her skin Sybil listened to the tick of the gold watch still wrapped around his wrist.

"Sybil!"

It was not the sound of her name that pulled her out of her reverie but instead the way William pinched at her sides, causing her to practically jump.

"Will!" she screeched as she turned around to smack him. "Really?"

He beamed, his eyes already questioning her behavior. "Expect someone else?"

Sybil released a sigh — an answer of her own. "Wha...no. No," she adamantly dismissed.

"Want to take a walk?"

Sybil exhaled, causing her shoulders to slump. She placed her hands in her pockets as she looked around, searching for any prying eyes. It was almost as if she was about to take a walk with someone else, perhaps the same man she'd left asleep in her bed that morning.

When the pair was away from the chatter and shuffling of an early morning hospital wing, they found a nearby wall and slouched into it. This was an old habit of theirs, a nod toward their Harvard days when it was mostly professors and exams that had them feeling so overwhelmed.

"You okay?"

Sybil nodded quickly. "Of course." Then: "Are _you_ okay?" she returned.

William dropped his head back to laugh. He too had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his white coat. "I saw Tom this morning."

"Here?" Sybil asked with piqued eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes. "No. And you know that's not what I'm talking about…"

"What are you talking about then?"

"Well did you sleep with him?"

Sybil avoided his gaze with eyes that still scanned the empty hallway. When she found it void of spectators, she turned back to her best friend. "What do you think?"

"I think we've never had a conversation like this before—"

"I hear allll about your sexual adventures, Will…"

"Exactly," he accepted with a nod. "But not once have I ever heard of yours."

"Yeah, well Gwen hasn't really heard them either so…"

William looked to her, his eyes searching. "What do you mean? Didn't you used to…"

Sybil nodded. "Yeah...of course we did. I just…"

"Yeah?"

"I mean, the stories you have...these guys, they...they're not people you're dating."

"Are you and Tom dating then?"

"Will!" Sybil whined. "Please, alright? Lower your voice!"

"Sybil, no one is here!"

"I'm here and this is dangerous! I shouldn't even be having this conversation."

"With me?"

"No, not with you!" she hushed. "Here!"

"Fine...fine," he sighed out. "I just...isn't this normal? I mean, was it bad—"

"It was certainly not bad," Sybil dismissed with an eye roll.

"Well how am I supposed to know that, Sybil? We've never been given an opportunity to talk about this, remember?"

"It just feels silly, alright? I'm twenty-five…"

"Yeah, and? I've told you practically everyone I've ever slept with. Like, ever," he emphasized flatly.

"But…"

"Why are you being so shy? I'm sorry, I just thought...these are always fun conversations for us and I'm happy I finally get to return the favor. You know, you tell me all of the juicy details and I make fun of you as if I'm not totally jealous…"

Sybil paused. "It's just...it's private, William."

"Because he's our patient?"

"No...yes!" But then: "I don't know, alright? I just...I don't want you to know everything. Not with Tom."

William's forehead creased. "Why not with Tom?"

"Because he's not just some bloke I shagged, alright?"

"Syb...Sybil, honey…"

"I know! I know!" she chanted as she moved to cover her face with her hands. "This is bad...so bad…"

"Do you regret it?"

She dropped her hands and rolled her head against the wall to look at him. "What do you think?"

"I don't know! You're being secretive!"

"No!" Sybil finally answered. "I don't regret it for a minute. It was...it was so lovely. He's always been...it's like nothing changed, you know? I forgot what it felt like…" William was silent, waiting for her to finish. His glare was so intense Sybil had to look away, delivering her proclamation to the window across the hall. "Being adored like that…"

"Oh…"

"What?" Sybil asked, suddenly panicked. "What does that mean?"

"I get it…" He moved so he was no longer resting upon the wall. "It makes sense, I guess."

"What does?"

"Why you don't want to share. My details are amusing because it's fun—"

"Trust me, Will, we had fun," Sybil assured.

William snickered. "I'm sure you did," he sassed. "What I mean is...the guys I sleep with aren't guys I'm in love with."

The moment was serious once more. "Yeah," she nodded. "That's about the shape of things."

There was a beat of silence before William turned back to her once more. "Well I'm happy for you and I think you should be happy too. I'd hoped, at the very least, that you had fun. Now it seems that you had a lot more than fun…"

"Much more," she confirmed. "Several times."

"You slut," William joked, causing them both to share a rather loud bout of laughter.

As Sybil's mind began to drift there was an interruption, pulling her away from her mirth and from the hospital entirely. The pair looked up, with Sybil detaching from the wall to stare at the person approaching. Will remained, glued to the spot, his thoughts still consumed by how utterly happy he was for Sybil and now how after many years being her best friend, this particular type of pride was foreign to them.

"Rory…"

William finally looked up, taking in the blonde before him. She was quite pretty, but dressed in athletic clothes that downplayed her beauty, especially with the messy way her hair was tied upon her head with an elastic. When she spoke and revealed an accent that was different from Sybil's or his own, William could only guess who she was.

"Hi, uh, I hope this isn't inappropriate I was just—"

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," Rory revealed with a breathy laugh. "He's fine," she added, knowing that to say her uncle's name was almost as risky as her showing up unannounced.

"No," Sybil dismissed with closed eyes and a shake of her head. "Your mum, is she…"

"Also fine. I...I don't have your number but I was in the neighborhood and wanted to see if you wanted to get lunch. I don't know if you even get breaks or—"

Sybil smiled sweetly. "I'd love to." She turned back to Will and smirked. "Want to cover for me?" He nodded, giving permission for Sybil to slip out of her coat and toss it his way. Again she was beaming at Rory. "Let's go."

The pair began to walk, first in silence, down the long corridor leading them away from the cardiology wing. When they reached the stairs, Sybil felt confident enough to address Rory more fully and she did so while she held the door open for the girl.

"Have you been here before?"

"London Bridge?"

"No," Sybil smirked. "Well, yes...but I meant here...with Tom."

"Oh, no...no," she settled, almost as if the prospect was a ridiculous one and she was too kind to share that with Sybil. "He doesn't really talk about all of this stuff."

"Me?"

Again Rory was smiling, but donating her amusement to each step below. "No, he talks about you plenty...but the hospital...his heart stuff. We don't hear much about it and my mam doesn't ask so I really don't either. If he wanted to talk about it, he would."

"Isn't that the reason you moved here?"

"Not quite...though I'm sure that's what my mam tells everyone. She needed to get away. The timing was too perfect."

"Did that upset you?"

"The opposite actually. I was kind of sick of people staring. Everything was a mess. I miss the coast and I miss my grandparents and my room, but the rest of London is grand."

"Did you ever get to visit Tom in Cambridge?"

"Once," she shrugged. "I was too young to remember much of it. I know more based on what people told me...I don't remember you."

"No, you wouldn't if you were that young."

"Was he hiding you?"

"No," Sybil giggled. "I was probably younger than you are now. Tom and I didn't know each other yet."

"You seemed to know each other well when you came to Ireland. That," she emphasized, "I remember."

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know...Tom didn't have a lot of friends and then there was you and he was a different person."

They were out on the street now. Sybil's curiosity had her feeling somewhat self-conscious, causing her to miss the coat she had been wearing inside and how it let her sink into herself. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Oh, a good thing, definitely," Rory assured enthusiastically. "It alarmed everyone else and I couldn't understand why. I think Tom always put on a bit of a show for me...he faked some of the happiness to protect me from the shitstorm that was my life. But all of a sudden it was genuine and everyone got to see what I always saw."

"Ahhh," Sybil accepted.

"I...I saw you two kiss that day...by the car when you arrived. I kind of told everyone so—"

Sybil smirked. "It's fine. We weren't very careful, to be honest."

"I'm sorry if that made things difficult."

"Rory, there's no need to apologize. I'm glad I brought out a side of Tom he was hesitant to let you all see."

"Well I'm sorry they weren't as thankful as I was. I don't understand it, really. It's actually quite selfish."

Sybil chuckled. "I don't know if I have a right to feel that way. I just think they were concerned. We got it from my parents too. I was...well, I was your age really and Tom was a bit older."

"There's just as many years between you now, you know."

Sybil reached forward to open the cafe door. Rory stepped inside and it was only when both were protected from the hazy sun that Sybil responded. "There are, I suppose. But all of that means less now. We're different people—"

"No you're not," Rory gave boldly.

The fire in her eyes reminded Sybil of Tom, thus causing her to grin at the blonde. "Oh?"

"That's what...I mean, I invited you out because we don't really know each other and there are a few things I want to clear up, but I kind of wanted to thank you...my mam won't so I don't mind doing it for the both of us. It's nice to see Tom that happy again...I don't think he's changed that much after all."

They were seated and Sybil immediately took her phone out of her pocket to place it upon the table. Her bank card was inside, but she also took the opportunity to check the device for any notifications, playing it off as an assessment of the time when her screen was void of any text messages. She sighed and sat back. "Perhaps not. I don't...we don't really think about it much. I don't really think it matters anyhow. We can't take back what happened."

Rory looked up from her menu and paused. "I suppose that's true."

Sybil studied her. "Can I ask a question?"

She nodded, closing the pamphlet completely. "Of course. I think that's only fair."

"Where's your dad?"

"Pat?" Rory clarified. The line she drew was mostly for her own benefit. "He was arrested."

"You don't sound too sure…"

"I'm not," Rory chortled. "No one talks about it. I have to eavesdrop on conversations."

Sybil's gaze narrowed. "You don't ask your mum?"

"She doesn't want to talk about it. It's kind of like Tom with the hospital. We're Irish. We don't have feelings. Hasn't anyone told you this?"

Sybil expelled a hearty laugh. "Tom tries to but I think you're all full of it. You have plenty of feelings."

"Yes, that we bottle up...and are then buried with."

Sybil was still laughing, even when the waitress left after coming over to take their order. "You and Tom certainly have the same sense of humor."

"That's hereditary. Mam has it too. I'm…" Her voice faltered as she came upon something. "I think part of this is me apologizing for her."

"For your mum?"

Rory nodded. "Yeah. She...she's not as harsh as she seems."

"I know that. Tom thinks the world of you two. I mean...you are his world."

"There's room for you."

Sybil laughed again. "I know that."

"Good because you need to. I don't want you to think that my mam's attitude is because of you. She just doesn't know what to make of you. She wants Tom to be happy but I think she's kind of jealous too." Rory's eyes widened. "Please don't tell anyone I said that. It's just that the person you love, loves you back and that's new to her."

Sybil gave a face of sympathy. "I'm not going to take Tom away from you two."

"Why not? Please do."

Sybil dropped her head back to laugh. "Why do you say that?"

"Because it's everything my mam can't say. She's happy for him...truly. And I think if she ever knew that she was making things difficult, she'd try to be better about everything."

"She's hardly making things difficult. Your uncle and I do that enough on our own."

"You're breaking the rules, aren't you?"

Sybil's breath hitched, prompted by the way the truth hit the room and blanketed it it noiselessness. "What?"

"I'm not criticizing, but I can only imagine you're not supposed to be dating a patient."

"Oh, we're not…"

"You're not supposed to be spending time together outside of the hospital," Rory corrected.

"That's true."

"Are you going to call things off then?" Before Sybil could respond, Rory had already continued. "At least until the surgery is over?"

"Oh, no…"

"He'd let you, I think."

"My answer should be yes. But no, I'm not going to call things off." Then: "Why? Does he want to call things off?"

"Christ no!"

"Well does he think I want to call things off?"

"I don't know...I don't think so. I think if anything he thinks you should want to call things off."

"He's right. I should want to, but—"

"Should I not have come today? Are you going to get in trouble?"

"I don't think so. I was working overtime anyway and besides, no one knows who you are."

Rory exhaled. "The other thing I wanted to say was...and I ask you this as his doctor...is he going to be okay?"

Again, Sybil was struck by Rory's honesty. "Yeah, of course."

"He doesn't talk about it. He just talks about you."

"He's going to be fine. I promise."

"Can you two date when all of this is over?"

Sybil smirked. "I hope so."

"Me too," Rory agreed. "You see, he's spent a lot of time taking care of me and my mum and it's just important to me that he's taken care of too. You make him very, very happy."

"Yeah…" Sybil breathed out. "He makes me happy too."

"I know no one sees it this way but he was really hurt back then. I get that it was his doing but that was still hard to watch. He was angry at himself for letting you go and it took him awhile to get over that. I think he finally is now but I don't want you to leave."

"I don't want to leave either, Ror."

"I know it probably feels like I'm asking a lot...I know you two shouldn't be together right now or probably ever in the eyes of the hospital and I know he hurt you and I know he has this heart condition but I just want to make sure he's okay. He's done the best job taking care of me and I need to return the favor. Tom's been so worried about us that he forgot about his own happiness and it's nice to see him finally getting what he deserves."

Sybil could only smile. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?"

* * *

Thanks for reading!

I apologize for being so, so bad at responding to reviews. I get them and I cherish them more than you'll know, I've just been traveling a lot and it's left me with no good time to reply. But please keep leaving them because they do help me to write and post more quickly!

x. Elle


	21. Come Pick Me Up

Sybil was barely out the door before she had her cellphone to her ear. The device was already ringing and she waited, calculating where he could have been if he wasn't around to answer her call. Before her mind could wander too far, the silent line turned to momentary static. Already she was smiling, and the habit only intensified when he finally spoke.

"Oh, thank God!" Tom let out with an exasperated sigh.

Sybil giggled. "What?"

He paused and in the quiet Sybil could picture his face and the look of disbelief he undoubtedly wore. "Are you serious?"

She paused. "Did last night give you a heart attack?"

"Syb, stop…"

"Okay," she let out, sighing too. "You're right. That wasn't appropriate. I'm just trying to lighten the mood here. The phone works both ways, you know…"

"I thought you were regretting everything—"

"I had a really busy day. I was going to call you on my lunch but I actually went out with Rory—"

"What?"

"Yeah," Sybil confirmed with a grin; it was as if she was somewhat surprised too. "We got food on my break."

"W...why?"

Sybil chuckled. "Because we don't know one another very well? I don't know. She just showed up and—"

"I'm sorry..."

"Tom!" Sybil whined in reprimand. "It's fine, really! She actually reminds me a lot of you and she loves you a lot...perhaps more than you deserve…" she teased with a voice that trailed off.

"Aye."

"I'm kidding!"

"Well I'm glad you don't hate me."

"Of course I don't hate you," Sybil practically sang. "I had fun last night."

Tom quirked an eyebrow and leaned forward. "Fun?"

"Amongst other things," Sybil shared, doing so in a whisper as she stood amongst other commuters waiting for the next rush hour train. She was blushing now and she turned away from the rail as if to hide the way his simple question had her missing him again.

"Well are you tired?"

Sybil blinked, each snapshot an attempt at gaining back her confidence. "Are you asking if you wore me out?"

"No," Tom chuckled. "I'm asking if you want to get a drink or get dinner." Then: "I know I wore you out," he joked.

It didn't make Sybil smile — she was already smiling and she wondered if the other people waiting for the tube were staring. "I'm about to catch the train home. Let me shower and get changed and then I'll be over."

"Let me come pick you up."

"I can take the tube, Tom."

"I know you can. You're about to take the tube home," he pointed out. "But when you get there and you're ready, give me a call and I'll come pick you up."

"Tom, you really don't have to…"

"I know that, I just...I miss having you in my car."

Sybil beamed, remembering a night in particular, one of many that involved Tom and her tucked away in the backseat of his Range Rover. "Alright then," she accepted. "Come pick me up."

~!~

Now that Tom had seen her naked, it was easier for Sybil to choose what to wear. Ironically that had always been the case, but the level of pretense between them had vanished in one night and suddenly she felt seventeen again. It made sense then for her to settle on a cotton dress and a pair of old trainers. Comfort seemed to be an acceptable route if the goal was to eventually rid her body of each item.

When he arrived, Sybil ran down the steps and jumped up into his car. All of this was almost too familiar and she fought the urge she had to reach over and give him a kiss. Tom must have had a similar inclination because he paused, inhaling while he took her in. But he said nothing and soon his attention was back on the street up ahead, allowing his hand to rest on the stick shift as a barrier between them.

Thankfully Tom's necessary task kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road, allowing for Sybil's own gaze to rake over him. He was out of his work attire, or rather, he had taken his tie off and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Either he hadn't shaved that morning or already his stubble was growing in, reminding Sybil of the nights they used to stay up talking when they both were meant to be doing schoolwork. Now they had careers afforded to them by that same education only they lacked homework and could spend time with one another without feeling guilty for neglecting their responsibilities. In a way, their gained years apart had this dinner and their insistence on seeing one another so soon feeling like a priority.

Soon they were pulling into the parking garage beneath Tom's flat. It was lit, but only barely, causing the white light to turn to yellow all around them, especially when Sybil and Tom remained inside the car long enough for the overhead lights to dim.

She looked to him, slightly nervous, and rolled her lips nervously before leaning in. "Can I kiss you?"

Tom smirked. "Fuck yes you can kiss me," he said with a laugh. "You don't have to ask."

Already his hand was to her cheek, bringing her close. It didn't take much for Sybil to reach out for him too, and when she found the console in the way she very boldly moved so she was closer.

"Syb?"

"Move your seat back," she suggested.

It was all so casual, but when Sybil moved to straddled him, Tom found her intentions to be anything but innocent. "Is this okay?" she asked sweetly.

Tom nodded. He just wanted her lips on his again. "Very okay."

With them this close, Sybil was able to rest her hands around Tom's neck, grinding down into him while she stole a long kiss. Soon her mouth was pressed to his jawline and then his collarbone and when she returned, all she could do was smile as she felt the strong way he gripped her hips.

"I'm sorry if I made you doubt…"

"No, it's...it's okay, Syb, really."

She smirked. "You have to accept my apologies soon." Several more open-mouthed kisses were placed to Tom's neck, this time paying special attention to his pulsepoint. Sybil even licked his skin, distracting him from the way her hands had now slipped to his waist, dancing along the length of his leather belt. But she returned to him soon thereafter, staring at him with doe eyes as if the rest of her weren't on fire with want. "We have to move on."

"What?" Tom asked, mostly breathless.

"I want to move on, Tom. I mean...that's what I've always wanted and that's what I'm trying to do but if you're waiting for me to give you permission…"

Tom pressed his tongue to his cheek. "You gave me pretty good permission last night. Three times."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm serious."

He sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, taking her hands in his own. "I'm serious too. I...I'm still not used to this. I never thought we'd be back here. This is everything I ever wanted."

"Good," Sybil beamed before pressing a forceful kiss to his lips. "Me too. So I need us to exist now. I've given myself permission to want you and I need you to do the same."

"Trust me, love, wanting you was never the issue."

Again Sybil was smirking. She had to look away; the way she shook her head did little to conceal how amused she was by his teasing. "But I'm telling you it's okay," she finally persisted. "I'm telling you I want you to want me...that's what I need. So let's try not to talk about it, okay?"

"If...if that's what you want," Tom settled in surrender.

"It is," she confirmed with a mouth that was already traveling southward.

~!~

When more cars began to pull in, crowding the garage with neighbors coming home from work, Tom nudged Sybil off of him. "Sorry," he mumbled. Before she could reprimand him he explained, and Sybil was happy to shrug back into her jacket just so they could seek privacy.

Entering his flat, Tom flicked on the foyer lights, continuing to do so in every room that he passed on his way back to the kitchen. When he tossed his keys by the door, Sybil listened to the way they echoed down the hall, suggesting that the two were now truly alone.

"Where's Em?"

"I don't know," Tom shrugged. "Said she needed to run some errands."

Sybil followed Tom into the kitchen. "Did you kick her out?"

"Ha!" Tom gave, dropping his head back. "Not in the slightest. She's free to do as she pleases. Why? Do you want me to kick her out?"

"Of course not. Apparently she was supposed to come to lunch today—"

"But she changed her mind at the last minute? Yeah, that sounds like Em…"

"Well, I mean, it's her home too. I just—"

Tom wrapped an arm around Sybil's midsection, pulling her in close. He pressed a kiss to her lips then one to her neck before leaning in to whisper in her ear. "Is there a reason she shouldn't be home?" Sybil slowly shook her head, playing along. When Tom felt her remain in his grip, he continued. "Sounds like you have plans, Sybil Crawley."

Her cheeks were crimson and though she was enjoying his touch, Sybil's energy bubbled out, pushing Tom off of her. The two laughed as she jumped up onto his countertop. He raised his eyebrows in question and she followed suit, rather proud of her swift movement and the way it allowed her to assume a position once familiar to them at Tom's cambridge flat.

"I do have plans for you, Tom Branson, and they involve you moving your arse and making me dinner." Again Tom gave a loud cackle, now as he obliged, already moving around the kitchen to start the meal. "What are we having?"

Tom turned to her. "You're bossy today, you know that?"

Sybil's lips pursed to further emphasize her coy nature. She was also being playful, and both characteristics had Tom amused. She really didn't care, and was happy to find the meal gave Tom idle time to stand around and stare at her. When his eyes were satisfied and both grew tired of simply sharing smiles, a conversation began, one that reminded the pair of how easy this all once was.

"What was Harvard like?"

Sybil raised her brows as if to challenge his question. "You want to know?"

"Of course I do. I asked, didn't I? Besides, I helped you get in…"

"It was great," she admitted honestly. "Really. I loved it. Aside from being so far away from everyone Boston was magical. There's just this culture and the people are so friendly."

"Friendly?"

"Yes, friendly! You should go sometime!"

"You'll have to bring me then," Tom suggested.

"Sure. We'll go. William's going home come Autumn. I told him I'd go and I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you tagged along."

"Where's he from again?"

"Baltimore."

"Why is he here?"

"Because of me, I guess. I don't know," Sybil shrugged to show she had an answer but was at a loss for how she could describe it. "It was us against the world in uni and then we went to med school and that continued. When I came back he wanted to come too. We thought he'd just do his residency here but I think he's really fallen in love with it." Sybil paused. "Remind you of someone?"

Tom chuckled. "Me?"

"Yes, you," Sybil teased. "Though you seem to fall in love with anywhere that's not home."

"I like home plenty. We've been over this," Tom sighed, now with his arms crossed over his chest.

Sybil's eyes narrowed and the moment grew still. "You went back right?"

"I did," Tom said, nodding slowly.

"Why didn't you stay?"

"Because I started being someone I didn't like. It was really easy to slip back into all of that. I wasn't feeling too well to begin with and I had taken a year off from teaching so I had nothing else to do."

"So you came back here to…"

"To do the same things," Tom said, confirming with a chuckle. "But I did them alone and somehow that seemed better. At least I didn't have friends spurring me on."

Sybil was still smirking but her voice became small, and her words grew hesitant. "You really didn't have any girlfriends?"

"No," Tom laughed. "I think that's far more believable than you being single."

"I thought of getting back with Ben a few times…"

Tom coughed out. "What?"

Sybil giggled. "I'm kidding!"

"Christ. That's not funny…" He paused. "What is his deal anyway?"

"His deal?" Sybil asked, altogether entertained by his jealousy but doing her best not to let it show.

"Yeah. He's nothing like what I expected."

"What did you expect?"

"An absolute gobshite. Loud. Arrogant."

"Like you?"

"You're hilarious…"

Sybil smirked. "I think so."

"But he's quiet. When Dr. Frye talks to him he almost looks...scared. What happened? Did you finally tell him he's shit in bed?"

"Hardly. I like to ignore that completely. Though, for someone who detests it, you certainly talk about it a lot."

Tom's face flushed. "So what's his problem?"

"His problem is he peaked in secondary and his parents built his ego up and forgot to give him actual life skills. I think he's just unhappy with his life. It's sad, actually."

"Hmm. That is sad."

"He doesn't even want to be a doctor…"

"That's comforting, Syb. Good to know we're trusting him to operate on me."

"He's not half bad though! He just doesn't have the confidence to apply himself. I think he'd do really well in plastics or emergency medicine…"

"All these years and you're still too good for him...even as a friend."

Sybil paused. "He really bothers you, doesn't he?"

"I can't explain it…" Tom said, lowly, almost ashamed.

"You're possessive," Sybil diagnosed.

Tom's eyes widened. "I'm not!" But his voice quieted down and he changed his position. "I'm not any more jealous than you ever were," he defended.

Sybil sat up straight. "Were? Am!" she corrected. The confidence he lacked was donated to her and she smiled widely, as if proud of her flaw.

"Am?"

"That nurse that always checks you in—"

"Diana?"

"Yeah, ew, how do you know her name?"

"Because she always checks me in!" Tom tossed back. "See? Jealous!"

"I'm not saying I'm not! What I was going to say is that I actually freaked out on her the other day."

Tom's forehead creased. "Why?"

"Because she was ogling you!"

"Welcome to my world, Sybil!"

"Well I honestly don't believe Ben has any feelings left for me. Really, I don't know if he had any in the first place."

"That's the issue though," Tom stated simply, as if the link were an obvious one.

"You wanted Ben to love me?"

"Ha!" Tom let out. "Love? I doubt he's capable of that. But like? Yeah, I guess I did. I...I can't imagine having you in my bed and not treating you well."

"What about my bed?" Sybil teased.

Tom nudged her knee causing them both to laugh. When it died down, he continued, effortlessly. "I wasn't jealous. I mean...I was."

"You were," Sybil assured, her voice low as she remembered the day at the airport when Tom almost traveled to Ireland by himself.

"Alright, I was," he shrugged in harmless defeat. "But it bothered me. Just like it bothers me that you weren't having sex these past few years. You deserve to be adored, Sybil."

"Even if you're not the one adoring me?"

Tom raised his eyes in question as he stepped into her. "Do you really not understand how much your happiness means to me?"

"No, I do…" Sybil vowed, all of her feeling small. "I just don't agree. I mean, your happiness is everything to me, Tom. It always has been. But I don't like to think about you with other girls."

"Then don't."

"I—"

"No, Sybil. It makes me sick to even think about it so please don't."

She looked away. "Alright."

Tom stepped into her once more, this time occupying the space between her legs. "Syb, I'm sorry…"

"It's fine," she shrugged off, adding a laugh as if to ask the sadness to disappear more quickly.

"Hey," he soothed as he reached out for her chin with a hand that asked that she look to him. When she finally did, he smiled and she couldn't help but to join him. "I shouldn't have brought it up. It's in the past and I want what you want...I want to move on. It's just important to me that you know that stuff. I mean...it's shit but it happened and I need you to understand why."

She nodded. "No, I get it."

"I'm here and we don't have to talk about it anymore. We're going to exist in the present, right?"

She nodded. "Tom, it's fine. I never said this was going to be easy." For extra strength she leaned forward and lazily wrapped her arms around his neck. Her fingers began to dance at the nape of his neck, playing with the short hairs there.

He smirked. "Nothing with us has ever been easy," he reminded before placing a soft kiss to her nose.

Sybil's eyelids fluttered shut, and what was once innocent turned to want all too quickly. In an attempt to banish their regret, both found themselves without air as their hands and lips insisted on constant contact. Sybil itched to grab at the back of Tom's shirt and pull the offending item up over his head. Their location made her hesitant, though that did little to stop them in the past. When Matthew and the rest of Tom's roommates went home for bank holidays, Sybil spent all of her free time at the flat, usually naked and often in places that were not Tom's bed.

She also remained because she knew such an action would separate them at the lips. She was having too much fun sitting atop the counter, all of him pressed into her, ready to carry her to his bedroom. Sybil was ready too because she nearly reached down to turn off the stove, making such an action possible. Even with the same thought, both struggled to detach long enough to move. Sybil couldn't help but to run her fingernails across Tom's scalp, knowing the action kept his mouth pressed firmly against hers.

Sybil's dress was pushed up now and Tom's hands teased her thighs with the pads of his fingers. Her hands had found a solution of their own and traveled underneath his shirt, running up and down the planes of his chest. With the way their breathing quickened and they fumbled upon the granite, it was a shock to Sybil and Tom that they could register much beyond their own intimacy. A similar surprise came when they found they were not alone, causing a beat before they inevitably broke apart.

Sybil jumped down to fix her dress while Tom, more sensibly dressed with a shirt that only wrinkled near his waist, simply looked away. "This is my flat," Tom whispered through gritted teeth, as if to retract the statement he'd made earlier when Sybil questioned Emilee and Rory's absence.

"Later," Sybil gave, almost in promise.

Behind them those same women stood, but even they were not alone. Tom's mother and father stepped in, immediately offering up an apology. "Sorry, we…"

"Surprise?" Tom's father let out in jest. No one laughed, causing his own forced smile to fall. "Your mother and I have the week off and we wanted to come visit as an early birthday present."

"Uh, yeah," Tom tried, now rubbing at his forehead as if to ask that his confusion disappear. "It's fine...uh, you remember Sybil, right?"

"We do," his mother confirmed. The grin she wore was more genuine than his father's, though both seemed far less bothered than either Sybil or Tom would have imagined.

Sybil craned her neck so Tom was no longer hiding her form. In speaking up she was also revealing rosy cheeks and swollen lips. "Hi ma'am...sir…"

"Want dinner?" Tom offered with a laugh.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

x. Elle


	22. Hear Your Heart

Sybil and Tom insisted they would set the table, just as they had insisted they'd finish the meal by themselves. This night, after all, was meant to be enjoyed by them alone. However it gave Tom's parents some time to settle in, also allowing Tom some time of his own, minutes he spent with Sybil by his side still trying to calm down.

"This was not how I wanted to spend my night," he said again, his voice still low despite them being alone in the kitchen.

Sybil looked to him, a smirk pulling at her cheeks, the mere reason being that she felt she had no other option in this moment. "I think we made that pretty clear…"

Tom looked to her and gave a grin of his own. "You're embarrassed, aren't you?"

"I'm not...I'm not embarrassed," she stuttered. "Just not a great first impression." Tom raised his brows in question so Sybil continued. "They didn't care for me much back then and now the first time they see me after all these years, you have your hand under my skirt and your tongue in my mouth."

"Well when you put it that way…" Tom stated dramatically.

Sybil reached out to swat at his shoulder, the action ending in shared laughter. "Doesn't it matter to you?" she finally asked.

"Honestly? No." It was Sybil's turn to furrow her brow and turn to him. "I've spent a good part of my life trying to be what my parents wanted and that somehow ends in my misery. The last time I stopped caring, I found out I was really feckin' happy. Go figure."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "Ironically, you were there then too."

Tom gave a smile and nothing else before taking the dishes out to the dining room. Sybil could only stare blankly ahead, her mouth agape and her her eyes catching on the time on the stove to distract herself from the weight of his words. Eventually she moved, helping Tom with their task. Soon everyone was filtering in, taking their places as if a dinner like this were commonplace. Of course Sybil was the last to be seated; a rather intense battle with the refrigerator found her safely settling on water instead of her desired glass of wine.

When she finally sat they immediately went into prayer. Tom kept his eyes trained on Sybil while his mind went elsewhere: to their time in Kinsale and how somehow this recently new experience felt familiar. Really he was impressed at the way she hid her discomfort, still looking cheerful as she transitioned out of the sign of the cross to then place her napkin on her lap. In a way, she looked more comfortable here than he was.

Then it was as if they had changed roles, with small talk surrounding them and Tom moving, allowing for Sybil to stare at him. Though they didn't get to talk about it, she wanted to and she was somewhat disappointed with her want for him because it distracted her mind from asking the rest of the questions she had. This one in particular was evident now and perhaps they didn't need to discuss it for this reason; Sybil was proud of Tom. He had a job he worked so hard to achieve and a flat with plenty of room to entertain guests. He looked good and though he'd never admit it, she saw the way his family brought out a different side of him. Sybil thought back to what he'd said in the kitchen earlier, but she dismissed his admission; as he'd stated, she never saw the bad parts of him and she was honored to be let into his world like this in a way it seemed no one had been before. She only wished his parents saw it too, and she found herself eating and silently resenting them while the conversation continued around her.

Meanwhile Emilee noticed how small Sybil felt, undoubtedly still attempting to find her place in this family even after all of these years. It was likely her parents didn't know the full story; she certainly hadn't told them everything and she doubted her brother had made any phone calls home in quite some time. Emilee admitted that the inadequacies Sybil was feeling were her fault. She hadn't told Tom their parents were visiting and now she was ashamed at herself for not realizing how quickly and realistically smitten her brother had become again. If she was more honest with herself it was likely she would have made more logical decisions — it was likely she would have assumed Tom would be spending another night with Sybil. More importantly, she would have been able to actively admit to herself that she was happy that was the case. Tom's mood improved immensely and as she continued to stare at Sybil, she wondered if her parents were noticing that.

Finally, Emilee spoke. "Sybil, when did you move to London?"

Sybil set her fork down and wiped at her lips. "After school. I got into a residency program at London Bridge."

"Thankfully," Tom's father joked. "We hear you're quite good."

"Oh, thank you, sir but—"

"She's good," Tom assured unwaveringly. "She's keeping me calm."

"I guess we should be glad too," Tom's mother added. "I really don't understand all of this."

Sybil looked to Tom as if to ask permission for the words she was about to speak. "Oh, it's...it's simple really," she revealed, sitting back in her chair. "Tom has a hole in his heart that causes it to skip a beat or beat too fast. His condition causes the muscles of his heart to thicken and become weak. His oxygen supply drops and together his lungs and his heart can't recover. If it continues, other parts of him could degenerate...his bones first, his brain next. So the idea is that we repair the hole that causes the arrhythmia and if we can fix the heart, everything else will follow suit. The idea is that if you stop the defect here, it can't spread."

"Like cancer?" Rory asked.

Sybil continued, still amazed at the fact that Tom's family knew essentially nothing of his condition. "Cancer creates something that's not originally there. Tom's condition kind of takes it away. So that's why this procedure is great. Cancer can happen out of nowhere. This can't. This is genetic. If we tackle it early on, it won't return because we're essentially fixing a problem he was born with, not one that was magically created. If enough of these procedures are done, it could potentially wipe out the disease altogether." Everyone was silent, more impressed with Sybil's delivery than impacted by the seriousness of Tom's diagnosis. "Sorry," she mumbled before picking up her fork and returning to her salad.

"No, no," Tom's mother mollified, "that makes sense."

"A lot of sense, actually," his father agreed.

Sybil watched as Tom's parents looked to Tom who was doing his best now to look away. "Thank you," Tom's mother finally said. It was as if she was acknowledging Tom's secrecy and accepting it at the very same time. Her disapproval was there, but overshadowing it was an immense amount of concern.

~!~

After dinner Sybil and Tom found themselves standing before a soap filled sink, Tom washing dishes that Sybil then dried. This was another thing they insisted on, attempting once again to resume the night they originally had planned. Just like before, Tom's voice came out in harsh whispers. Everyone else was many rooms away enjoying tea and watching the news but Sybil didn't complain as it gave her plenty of excuses to lean in closer to him.

"I'm glad they came into town and I appreciate the gesture of them surprising me for my birthday but all I want to do right now is go to sleep."

Sybil's face fell to indifference. "Yeah? Do you want me to go?"

"I'm sorry, what I meant was I wanted you to myself tonight and I'd prefer we be in my bedroom, alone, right now."

Sybil smirked and returned to drying off a plate. "Should I go soon then? What are you saying?"

"Do you want to?"

"Well, no, but I know how your parents are...my mum and dad are the same way."

"They won't care. What are they going to do? Kick you out? Of my flat?"

"Maybe not, but they'll treat me differently."

Tom scoffed. "Because her adult son has sex? Or, I don't know, god forbid sleeps in the same bed with a girl he loves?"

"You're being fresh," Sybil tried in an attempt to talk Tom down. She also needed her own words so she could forget his. "I don't need your parents thinking I'm a slag."

He narrowed his eyes to show his lack of amusement. "Will you stop? I told you, I think they might actually be happy for me. My life is finally starting to come together."

"Tom, you had a pretty good life before," Sybil reminded. She was standing amongst it, those same traits from before still so present now.

Tom didn't look to her but when he did, his eyes begged that she believe him. "It's better now. Trust me." He shook off his hands and pulled at the rubber stopper, causing the sink to drain into an exaggerated slurp. "Do you...did you want to spend the night?"

Sybil tossed her towel aside and leaned against the counter as if to challenge his invitation. "Do you want me to spend the night?"

"I think I made that pretty clear, no?" He wanted to step into her, to wrap his arms around her waist and drop his mouth down to her neck but he stopped himself, acknowledging that an answer was more important now especially if it gave him the very same result.

Sybil looked away, expelling a sigh and then turning back to face Tom. "You really don't think they'll think differently of me?"

"No, I really don't. And if they do, I don't care. After that speech you gave they probably think I'm going to die so I think it's the least they can do to allow me a few more nights with you in my bed."

Sybil pushed at his shoulder and both carried their laughter to the living room. Everyone looked up when they entered, all immediately taking note of the carefree nature both had and how, unlike at the dinner table, it remained in their presence.

"If it's alright, we're going to bed. We have work in the morning…"

"Oh, of course," Tom's mother said kindly — genuinely.

Tom turned back to Sybil. He gave a prolonged nod to the room, surprised by the way in which his prediction of their acceptance was oddly accurate. "Right," he gave. "Night."

Sybil tossed a similar salutation over her shoulder but neither made slow or quiet work of their exit from the room. In fact, by the time they had reached the stairs their laughter could be heard again. Tom's hands reached out for Sybil, tickling at her sides and causing her to run only when he pinched the soft skin of her thigh. With his hands so close again, Sybil ran, not shocked by his movement but wanting to experience it from the confines of his bedroom.

Once inside, with the door shut and latched, Tom began to undo the buttons of his shirt. His gaze bounced from his task then back to Sybil again.

"I love this room," she sighed out as she leaned back upon his mattress. "Maybe more than your loft."

"You are welcome over anytime you please."

"You're closer to the hospital than I am," she noted, innocently. "Don't be angry if you come home and find me in your bed."

Tom chuckled. "I think angry is the opposite of what I'd feel in that situation."

Carelessly, he reached behind his head for a fistful of his shirt and pulled the item off. The way he tossed it into his hamper had Sybil impressed, but her eyes also remained on the planes of his chest and how last night she wasn't given the proper time to see him in the light.

"What?" he asked, content and grinning.

"Nothing," Sybil gave, turning away.

She disappeared, inviting herself into Tom's closet. Tom's throat ran dry when he saw her standing before his wardrobe in nothing but a lace pair of underwear. It was the same fabric his thumbs had brushed upon earlier and yet he stood motionless, doing his best to regain steady breathing before approaching her.

Before he could, Sybil turned to him. "Is all of this up for grabs?"

Tom was almost to her now. "Depends. How covered up are you getting?"

Sybil beamed. His words made the kiss they shared feel effortless. Tom was still in his jeans but Sybil paid no mind to the leather belt he wore and the way it marked the skin near her belly button.

"Here," Tom tried before abruptly detaching from her. He made his way back to the door with no apology in his wake.

Sybil unfolded the soft cotton shirt she had been handed, and held the item to her chest to hide the way she now felt inadequate in front of him. "Did I do something?"

"No," Tom chuckled. "Not at all." In an odd show of confirmation, Tom abandoned her fully.

Sybil's shoulders dropped in defeat, making the new article of clothing covering her skin fall as well. She clicked off the lights and joined him back in his bedroom. "Then?"

"I don't want to scare you, Sybil."

"Scare me?" She was almost offended by how sensitive he was making her sound.

"I don't want you to think this is going too fast, or...I just don't want you to regret anything and start to push me away while you figure all of it out." Before Sybil could respond, Tom addressed the shortcomings in his speech. "I'd respect that, of course, but—"

"Do you think this is going too fast?"

"No...no," he gave again with yet another chuckle. "It's been how many years?" Sybil smirked at their shared memories. "But now that you've let me, I'm finding it really hard to not enjoy all of this."

"Tom…"

"I missed you," he croaked, his voice cracking in a way that had Sybil softening all the way to his side.

"I missed you too," she said, promising. "I told you, remember? I want you to want me. I need that."

"I know. I guess this all seems easy because we've been here before...there's comfort here. But this is far simpler than what I need from you."

"From me?"

"Just because we're having sex, Syb...and trust me, I couldn't be happier, but—"

Sybil swallowed. "I told you I missed you, Tom. Yes, this is the easy part. This has always been the easy part. Having...making love to you has always made so much sense."

"I guess what I'm saying is that I know you're meeting me physically. I get that. But I'm probably far beyond that. I mean...I am. And I know you're not—"

"Who says I'm not?"

"I'm not expecting you to be. I'd be surprised if you were."

"Well maybe I am," she tossed back confidently, continuing this game of verbal game of tennis.

"Are you?"

Sybil sighed out, causing the moment to slow to a full pause. "I don't know."

Tom left her and went to his bed. Some of this was routine, but he couldn't help but to smile when he watched Sybil follow, performing these same tasks while they continued to talk. "I told you that wanting you wasn't the issue, alright? And I know you want me too...you've made that pretty clear. But I want more than just this and I can't lie and say that I don't."

"Tom Branson, are you feeling used?"

He tossed a scoff over his shoulder. Currently he was staring down at her. Somehow Sybil had already made herself comfortable and he wanted to join her but was back to thinking he needed her permission to touch her.

Tom's silence spurred her on. "Can you give me a bit of credit? I didn't just give myself to you then and I've hardly done that now. I think I made you work for it, no?"

Again Tom was chuckling. "Aye…"

"I'm in your bed and your family is downstairs. That has to mean something, no?"

Tom agreed, rolling his eyes heavenward as he settle further into the sheets. Finally he turned to her. With the comforter pulled up, Tom reached out to palm at Sybil's cheek, coaxing her into another kiss. She obliged, and when the action had her breathless and smiling, his hand remained, with his thumb caressing her ear.

"Why don't your parents know about your surgery?" Sybil asked, practically in whisper.

Tom's brow furrowed. "What?"

"They don't—"

"I know, I just...I don't know," he shrugged.

"Didn't you care to tell them?"

"They didn't ask."

"But they're your parents…"

"I don't like them to worry. They've done that enough."

"But you're their son and they love you and this matters."

"Sybil, I already told you that I don't have control over any of this."

"It's still happening."

Tom exhaled heavily. "They knew it was happening and they knew I had a qualified team and then they knew you were on that team. Then they were a different kind of worried. They want me to get help but they don't want you to lose your job. They know how I feel about you, Sybil...it's how I've always felt about you. It's just shit, you know?"

Sybil scrunched her nose upward in amusement. "It is, isn't it?"

"You'd tell me if I was ruining this for you, wouldn't you?"

Sybil rolled her lips inward in sympathy. "Are we talking about your parents or are we talking about us?"

"I'm talking about you and how hard you have worked and how I don't want to do anything to jeopardize that."

"Tom, we discussed this…"

"We didn't though," he laughed.

"What are you asking?"

"I'm asking if I'm making this difficult—"

"Would I tell you?"

"Well, yeah."

"I would," she nodded slowly. "But I wouldn't let you do anything about it."

"Sybil…"

"I think I'm more worried for this surgery than you are and I don't understand why, Tom. So I may not talk about it but if you want any indication of my feelings, there it is."

"I'm your patient, Sybil."

"But you used to be my best friend."

The word rang in their heads, reverbing amongst the otherwise silent air. Not boyfriend — _best friend_. Maybe that was what Tom was craving.

He breathed out again. "Why are you worried?"

"Why aren't you?" Sybil snapped. "I know you can't control it, but it's still happening and your parents need to know and you need to care."

"Sybil, I do care but maybe I don't want to spend our time together talking about how my body is failing—"

"It's not failing!" Her voice was coated in disregard, but also anger.

"But it is, Sybil! Slowly! And most of the time, I don't feel it. I don't feel any of it. Only you're here now and I guess, yeah, it does terrify me. Maybe I didn't care before and maybe I do now and maybe that has everything to do with the fact that you're here and you don't hate me."

Sybil smirked. It was her turn to press a hand to his skin, this time settling on the crook of his neck and the muscles there that flowed into his back. "I certainly don't hate you."

"None of this has been okay and then you were there and it was. That's it. That's all I needed to know. I trust you and I'm not doing this without you."

Sybil nodded. "Okay," she breathed out slowly. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Tom sighed too. "I didn't mean to make all of this so heavy…"

She breathed out a laugh. "It was pretty heavy before, we were just ignoring it."

"I wasn't ignoring it, trust me, I was just still in shock."

"And now?" Sybil tried, hoping to direct them in a more carefree direction.

"Still in shock. I know...I can't possibly ask you to want the same things I want. Or even admit them if you did. But this is so easy...being with you has always been the easiest thing in the world, Sybil. I mean that. And there's still so much shite going on but when it's just you and me…"

"I know, Tom."

"It feels like no time has passed. This feels normal. You here, dinner with my parents…"

Sybil turned so she was snuggled further into him. No longer were the two separated; she laid her head into his shoulder, breathing in the faith scent of aftershave still there from that morning when he'd undoubtedly washed her from his skin. Sybil nuzzled his neck with her nose and then pressed a soft, somewhat wet, kiss to his collarbone.

"I missed arguing with you."

"We're not arguing…"

"Exactly. We never did."

"We argued sometimes," Tom reasoned.

"About them," Sybil observed. "Never about us."

Tom looked down to her. "You okay?"

Sybil kept her eyes off of him. Her fingers now toyed with the gold cross pendant he wore around his neck. "Do you think your parents are proud of you?"

Tom chuckled. "What?" he asked, clearly confused.

Sybil finally looked to him. "I'm serious. Do you think they are?"

"Uh, yeah," he dragged, still processing. "Do you not?"

"No, I just…" She moved to sit up so she could see him more clearly. "I just feel like they don't acknowledge how hard you've worked and how hard you continue to work."

Tom laughed again. "Uhh, I guess...I just don't think I've given it much thought."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Well I didn't really notice it much until now…"

"Nevermind," Sybil tried, already moving so she was settling back into his side.

Tom shrugged. He was less confused now, but still just as amused. "Syb, we can talk about it, I just—"

"I guess what I'm saying is that _I'm_ proud of you," she sighed out.

He smirked. "Yeah?"

"Yes! Of course I am! You worked hard then and you talk about how you lost your way a bit but you're still doing really, really well. Your job and this flat…" Tom was still smiling, doing so in a way that caught Sybil off guard. "What?"

"Nothing," he dismissed lightly.

"Don't you think you're doing well?"

Tom sighed and moved so he was enveloping Sybil. He had her practically pinned to the mattress beneath him but she softened in his arms, her eyes staring only at his mouth while he spoke. "I think it's lovely that you think I'm doing well."

"You are!"

"Sybil, I have a heart condition. So yes, I have a nice flat and a good job and a nice car, but there's still some things I'm working on."

Sybil's gaze piqued. "Like?"

Tom looked to Sybil's lips then back up. "There's this girl…"

Sybil giggled. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I'm trying to convince her to share all of this with me."

"Has she said no?" Sybil asked, playing along.

"Well she hasn't said yes."

Sybil looked away. "I seem to think she's essentially said yes. I mean...I think she said yes three times last night."

It was Tom's turn to raise his eyebrows. He was stunned by her bold nature, and now turned on as his mind sought to meet her there. "Do you think she wants to say yes again? Because I'm not convinced…"

Sybil cackled, the force of her own laughter causing her head to drop dramatically back. "If you're not convinced yet, I don't know what she can do to change your mind. Or," Sybil sang, "maybe _you're_ not doing a good enough job convincing _her_ …"

"Oh?" Tom countered with an ironic amount of innocence. He pressed a kiss to her neck then one just a bit lower at the base of her clavicle. It was quite easy then for his lips to travel southward, all along the curve of Sybil's breasts where he was forced to pause but only so he could push her shirt up.

"I'm going to take your advice," Tom explained, "but can you do me a favor and tell the girl to be quiet? My parents are downstairs." Tom broke character and looked away to laugh. The statement sounded ridiculous and yet he and Sybil had been here before.

"Quiet?" Sybil teased. To her it was a challenge, but like Tom she was also thinking of the way she'd once bitten his shoulder to keep herself from screaming out while he moved against her. "She'll see what she can do…"

* * *

Thanks for reading! Reviews are more than appreciated.

(Let's put it this way: I've had this chapter written for over a week and I'm only posting now so as to not punish those who _did_ review. I already have next chapter written but oddly enough when my readers don't feel like reviewing I don't know why I should feel like posting.)

x. Elle


	23. Her World

Wearing nothing but bright red nail polish, she bent over to grab for his button-up. They had littered the item there the previous night, and as she fiddled with the buttons she smirked to think of where they'd left the rest of yesterday's workwear; their intimacy had started in the bathroom and it was a clumsy fumble through the kitchen before they reached their bedroom.

Groggy and now annoyed to find the space beside him vacant, he picked his head up from his pillow and looked around. The rest of his body remained, naked and pressed flat upon their bedsheets.

"Where are you going?" Matthew mumbled.

"I can't sleep," Mary gave simply.

He dropped his head back down but soon picked his weight up off the mattress when he found his mind was far more awake than his body. "What is it? Wedding? Baby?"

"I'm fine, darling," she hushed, now pushing back at his hairline. "Go back to sleep, alright?"

"I can't convince you to get back in here with me?" Matthew asked. His eyes were so averse to the light, Mary was surprised he could see her at all. It was likely her silhouette shadowed in the doorway separating their bedroom from the rest of the house helped to sharpen his vision.

"Later." There was no other discussion; Matthew was too drained and Mary was too anxious to continue putting off the conversation she'd been mentally mapping out since the previous night.

In the kitchen, with the early morning hesitant to brighten up the room, she padded toward the stove to put the kettle on. With a tea bag dry and aromatic resting in her favorite ceramic mug, she now felt she was of sufficient mind to call her sister. It rang once, then two more times. Mary had accepted that she'd be leaving a voicemail, perhaps because that was what she wanted, but soon the line hiccupped.

"Hello?" Sybil answered. She held her phone to her ear, but the room around her was quiet. Like Mary, only a single light was on, but unlike her sister, Sybil wished she were still in bed.

"Heyyyyy," Mary breathed out. "Do you have time?"

Sybil nodded. She placed the phone on speaker so she could continue getting ready. Already she was in her scrubs and was now working to lace up her trainers. "Yeah, of course. You okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Mary nodded enthusiastically. "Uh...are you at work?"

Sybil paused to stare at her phone as if to acknowledge her sister's odd behavior. "No...are you sure you're okay?"

"I just…are you at Tom's?" Mary blurted out. It was so unlike her, she immediately moved a delicate hand to press her fingers to her lips in an attempt to keep any other impulses from slipping out.

Sybil laughed. Her instinct was to lie, but she was far too amused with how uncomfortable Mary seemed to be and she gave her the truth as reward for her bravery. "Yeah, actually."

"Did you shag him?"

This came with far more confidence and Sybil no longer laughed; the question had left her breathless and there was nothing left to expel. "No."

"Oh, I—"

"I mean, yes," Sybil corrected, her eyes shut and her head shaking in self-reprimand. "Yes, I did."

Mary nodded. "Alright. Uh, well that's lovely, right?"

Sybil's eyes widened. "Lovely?"

"I'm…" She sighed. "Matthew has helped me to see that you've always been there for me and I truly thought I was being there for you but I guess I wasn't so now I'm trying to fix that...and be there for you," she finished awkwardly.

"By asking me if I've shagged Tom?"

"Precisely."

"Mary, we _really_ don't have to do this…"

"Not we, Sybil. Me. I need to do this."

"If it makes you uncomfortable—"

"It does and it shouldn't," she said with resolve. "So how was it?"

Sybil looked to the bathroom then back to her phone. The shower was off now, but it was likely Tom would appear soon and she didn't need his ego inflated so early in the day, especially when the two were meant to stand before one another in a meeting soon, acting as if their relationship was nothing but that between a doctor and their patient. She gave in and picked the device up and placed it back to her ear.

"Out with it," Mary instructed.

"Uh, it was good. It's always…" Sybil laughed again. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes, Sybil, I am!" Mary confirmed with added volume. "So play along before I change my mind, alright? I've both bored and shocked you with all of my details for the past decade and yet you keep a straight face at family dinners so I think I at least owe you this."

"Alright, yeah…" Sybil breathed out slowly. "It was great. Really great. It's always...it's always been great."

"I didn't...I mean, I figured you did back then, but—"

"Yeah we had sex all the time," Sybil admitted with abandon. "Like, all the time."

Again Mary nodded. "It wasn't awkward?"

"Then?"

"No, now!"

"Ohhh! No, not really." The latter statement came with far less fanfare.

"Did you kiss him first?"

"I don't...I don't remember." Sybil paused. "I kissed him a few weeks back. At his flat."

Mary's gaze perked. "You've been going to his flat? I thought you were just doing breakfast at ungodly hours."

"He made me dinner. I...I told him everything."

"Everything?"

"That I don't think I ever fell out of love with him...meaning that a large part of me still was...in love with him," she settled.

"Oh good. The rest of us were waiting for you to admit that to yourself." Mary's comment had Sybil rolling her eyes. "Now was this before or after he had his tongue down your throat?"

"After, definitely after," Sybil jested. "But listen to this. So last night," she began, now looking to the bathroom door, "we were cooking supper...well, Tom was cooking supper. And his parents had come into town but he didn't know. So they walk in, ready to surprise him because his birthday is this weekend and he practically has his hand in my knickers…"

"Sybil!"

"We didn't know!"

Mary smirked. "What did they say?"

"Not much. But then we all sat down for dinner...that was bloody awful."

"Do they not like you?"

"I don't know what they think of me."

"Really? Did they not know?"

"About me and Tom?" Sybil clarified, and yet she didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "I mean, I assume they knew just as much as Mum knew. They thought I was foolish, I imagine."

"Well Tom was foolish too, no?"

"No, not exactly," Sybil said, sighing. "I don't know what everyone thought...if they thought Tom was taking advantage of me and I was too daft to see it or maybe they thought Tom did love me and even then I was a silly for believing anything could come of that."

"Well you certainly showed them!" Mary joked. "Or Tom showed them...with his hands in your knickers..."

The sisters shared a laugh. "They know I spent the night here last night and now I'm scared to go downstairs."

"You're still there?"

"Obviously! I packed a bag so—"

"Sybil! A bag? Really?"

"I wanted to be prepared! There was no sense in avoiding the inevitable. Tom's closer to the hospital!" She tried one last time. "I'm practical if anything!"

"Where is your toothbrush?"

Sybil paused, her forehead creasing in confusion. "What?"

"Your toothbrush. Is it back in your bag or—"

"No, I left it on the counter," Sybil explained simply, Mary's question making sense to her only as she gave an answer.

"I...I'm not criticizing," Mary swore, "but isn't this a bit fast? It's been...what? A week?"

"No Mary, it's been nearly eight years."

There was silence across the line as she acknowledged the courage her little sister had. In Mary's mind, Matthew had always been the brave one. Though he caused their initial separation, it was also he who fought to get her back. Then again, Mary thought, she had let him and there was bravery in being that vulnerable. For as different as she and Sybil always were, their capacity to forgive seemed infinite when it came to the men they loved.

"Are you happy then?"

"I am."

Through the silence, Mary could almost hear her sister smiling, causing her to smile too. "Good. You deserve every bit of it."

Sybil pushed a curl behind her ear. "Thanks, Mary."

"I...I'm sorry I was rubbish at this before. That wasn't fair to you."

"Mary…"

"I mean that, Sybil. You've grown to love Matthew and that has meant the world to me. You know that. Maybe Tom and I—"

Sybil scoffed out a lighthearted laugh. "What? Can be mates?"

"What? We could do it! Maybe we have a lot in common! Who knows?"

" _I know._ I know you both. Very well. You have little in common."

"We both love you," Mary stated proudly as if the idea were her own and not something she'd borrowed from both Tom's sister and her own fiance.

An awkward lull hindered the connection across the line and Mary's heart dropped. She thought to clarify her words but stopped herself as she heard Sybil's in her mind. Perhaps those same eight years found their feelings exactly intact, just as they'd left them that night at the Gala.

The bathroom door opened and Sybil watched, her eyes glued to the water droplets that rolled down Tom's back and landed at the towel rolled around his waist. She smiled; it was distraction, not dismissal, that had her pausing. It was possible Tom knew he was being talked about, but it was also more than plausible that the kiss he placed to the top of Sybil's head had nothing to do with that fact.

"Hey, uh, I have to catch the train soon. Can we finish talking later?" Sybil's gaze remained on Tom, especially when he dropped his towel and casually stepped into his closet, out of her view.

"Yes, of course. Really, there's nothing to talk about on my end. Just moody and tired."

Sybil paused, leaving Tom naked and alone so she could briefly bring herself back to the moment. "You okay?"

"Yes, darling. It's nothing new. I think I'm just nervous."

"About the wedding or the baby?"

Mary blew out an unsteady breath that tickled her lips. "I'm not quite sure."

"Alright, well don't worry, alright? This wedding's going to be everything you want it to be and then this baby's going to be perfect and loved and happy…"

"I know," Mary gave, so uncertain she might as well have been lying. "Go catch your train. But let's do lunch this week."

Sybil nodded, but her attention was back on Tom's backside. He was dry now, but his hair was still damp, and he made no apology for the way he rubbed a towel against his head, still very much naked. Sybil stifled a giggle in the palm of her hand. "Definitely! Love you!"

"Love—"

The phone call turned to temporary static before leaving Mary with a dial tone echoing in her ear. As she clicked the device off, she stared blankly ahead, resolving to accept her sister's quick departure just as she was learning to accept the relationship that caused it.

"Mary!"

She looked over, seeing Matthew standing before her, a screaming kettle in his hand. Though he was seemingly perturbed, he still poured the water into her mug before setting the pot back down.

"What? Sorry…"

His brow furrowed. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I was just on the phone with Sybil and—"

"Are you sure?"

He didn't soften and immediately Mary was on the offense. "Yes, Matthew, I'm sure. Are _you_ alright?"

"I'm fine, I just don't know how you couldn't possibly hear the kettle when you were sitting right next to it."

"I'm tired!"

"Not tired enough to get back into bed with me."

"Excuse me? Are you seriously upset about that?"

"Considering you're going to be down for a nap in—" He paused to glance to his watch. "—three hours," he assessed, "yes, I'm a bit upset. You're so on edge lately. Relax!"

"I don't know how to relax, Matthew!"

He sighed out and turned back to her. "Alright then let me ask again. What is it? Wedding or baby?"

"Well right now it's my fiance being an arse!"

"Great well when you're done being acting like a child, you'll still have a wedding and a baby, so feel free to let me — yes, your fiance — help you with your problems."

"Problems? I'm not sleeping, Matthew! I'm stressed out! I would have loved to stay in bed with you but I've been meaning to call Sybil and I figured now was a good time considering I have back-to-back meetings all day and then my last dress fitting which, big problem, because I've gained two pounds since my last fitting and I'm sure I'll be much larger by the time we're in Scotland."

"Great!" Matthew shouted back. "That means our child is healthy and you're healthy! Christ, Mary, if you didn't always care what people think—"

"Well I do! I always have! I was like this when you met me and it's a skill I've only honed. Kind of late to call me out on it."

"Fine!" he tossed out with just as much volume. "Give me your phone! I'll call my mum and—"

Mary snatched her phone off the counter and held it tight to her chest. "You will do no such thing!" she roared.

"I will! It'll make her day. Then we can call your parents—"

"Absolutely not!"

"Mary, for Christ's sake, we can't keep doing this! You're not sleeping and I don't know if it's because you're pregnant or because you're worried about everyone knowing you're pregnant."

"Probably both!"

"That's not the answer I wanted!"

"Well it's the answer you're getting, Matthew! My god, I don't know what to do with you this morning. You want to go back to bed? Let's go back to bed!" She hopped off the counter and brushed angrily past him, leaving a slight breeze in her wake.

His eyes followed her. "As if you'll actually fall asleep at this point…"

Mary stopped, her body still while she turned only her head back to him. "Is that a challenge?" Instantly she was off, nearly stomping as she made her way back to her bedroom.

"Mary!" Matthew called, already following her down the hall. "Mary!" He appeared in the doorframe, now stunned by the way Mary stood waiting for him, her arms crossed over her chest in a way that had her thin frame outlined beneath his shirt.

"What?" she practically shouted.

"Are you really getting in bed?"

"Well that's what you wanted, innit?" she asked, tossing her hands up in question. Mary immediately stepped toward the bed but was soon stopped by the force of Matthew's arms, pulling her into him.

She moved unwillingly, though she couldn't deny she rather liked the way his morning skin pressed softly against her own. "Get off of me!"

"Can we talk?"

"No!" she shrieked defiantly. "You don't want to talk, you just want to sleep, remember?"

"Well I'm up now!" he gave. "Let's—"

Mary made no apology for the way she tossed her knee into Matthew's chest. It broke the grip he had on her waist, but only momentarily. Matthew was too incensed now and just as Mary jumped upon the bed, he gripped the hem of her shirt and pulled her back toward him. Their satin bed sheets provided for an unsteady stage; just as soon as Mary was standing upon their mattress, she was down again, this time pinned to the bed with Matthew falling upon her.

The lack of noise marked the moment, dotted only in the way the two attempted to steady their breathing. Hesitantly Matthew moved in. He only saw all of his subtle mistakes when Mary kept staring, her eyes blinking rapidly as they took alternating snapshots of his eyes and lips. Her pause had him calm, but then she was nodding, leaning in to accept his kiss almost as if she had no other choice.

When they broke away Mary's body relaxed and with her head tossed back she gave a laugh that was far louder than her usual. Matthew could only stare, especially as she shook beneath him.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because that was ridiculous! _You're_ being ridiculous!" she pointed out. Even so, she kept a gentle grip on his shoulders.

" _I'm_ ridiculous?" Matthew asked incredulously. "You were just standing on our bed! Like a child!" he added.

"Oh yeah? Well you're welcome. That's what you're asking for, isn't it?"

"Pardon?"

Mary laughed again. "I'm very happy to be marrying you, Matthew," she revealed with manicured hands that now played with the short hairs at the base of his neck.. "Even if you are ridiculous."

"Oh?"

"I've called Sybil and now I can cancel my meetings if you'd like. We could spend the rest of the day in bed if that's what you want."

Matthew sighed before rolling off of her. Laying on his back, he stared up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry, I don't—"

"Darling," Mary practically sang, "it's funny!"

"What are you—"

Mary turned on her side so she was pressed to him again. "Do you know how many people in this world get to see me like this?"

"Half-naked or—"

"No, Uninhibited," Mary explained. Then she rolled her eyes. "Though, the answer's the same either way…"

Matthew accepted the love Mary was ready to give, as he moved to envelop her fully. "I know…"

"Do you though?" Mary questioned. In a way, it was a concept she was also struggling to accept - one she'd warred with since its discovery many years ago. "At one time you were the one person I swore would never see me like this." Matthew continued to take her in and so she continued. "I wanted to be perfect for you. I wanted—"

"Mary, you are perfect."

"I adore you for saying that, darling. I really do. But I'm not and that's okay. And I wasn't comfortable saying those things until we actually started dating. Then I realized that you were the only person I _could_ be vulnerable with. It was like overnight the thing that terrified me the most was suddenly so easy."

Matthew smirked. "You're quite poetic when you want to be."

"No, that's another thing I only do for you."

He was still smiling. "What?"

"Say stupid things," Mary admitted slowly.

Matthew pulled her into him and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I like the stupid things you say...even if I don't think they're that stupid. And although you drive me absolutely mad, I'll have you know that I'm also looking forward to making you my wife."

"Wife," Mary smiled. "Finally."

Matthew chuckled. "I love you."

"Even when I'm ridiculous?"

" _Especially_ when you're ridiculous."

~!~

Sybil stood near Tom's armoire, absentmindedly staring at her reflection in the mirror there while she clasped her necklace. Already she'd done a fair job at ignoring Tom's advances and yet she found herself moving slowly as if to ask that he demand her attention one last time before they were forced to part.

Of course he caught on. The speed at which Sybil moved had Tom refusing to put a shirt on, and he made no apology for the way he wrapped his arms around her waist. His mouth dropped down to the curve of her neck but he did not kiss her skin in the way he wished. That is, he did not commit until Sybil met him, her hands gripping his arms only briefly before turning around, hungrily running her touch upon his neck and scalp while she seized his mouth.

As if to acknowledge that he'd accomplished his intended task, Tom laughed into the kiss but like Sybil his eyes were soon shut and he stumbled back, wanting to bring her down onto the mattress with him.

"We...we can't—" Sybil sputtered as she pushed him away.

Concern furrowed Tom's brow. "What?"

"I'm going to be late. I...I'm already late," she admitted. "Even if I leave now, I—"

"Syb, it's fine...go," he encouraged with a nod toward the door. "I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"No, Tom," she sighed. "I...I want to. _Really_ , I do. I just…"

"I can't make you late," he said sternly. "Seriously, go." He stood and walked for his closet once more. Though Sybil did not follow him, she could almost see the way he shifted, anger now forcing him into that day's dress shirt.

"Tom, it's my choice. I...it's not really late. My meeting with you isn't until ten and—"

He reappeared. Just as Sybil had surmised he was dressed now. A tie hung undone around his neck as he continued to roll his sleeves. "So you're late or you're not late?"

Sybil sighed out, using her frustration as motivation to draw him in. Her fingertips danced along the lines of Tom's tie while her gaze avoided his. "I'm not late," she admitted sheepishly. "It's just the earlier I get out of here, the earlier I can come home."

Tom smirked. A simple truth had his bravery returning. "Home?"

Sybil looked to him, beaming but with the intention of banishing any doubt. "It's nice to have something outside of work to look forward to," was all she could manage.

Tom saw now that her sadness was not regret, but a show of how instantly she was overwhelmed by her feelings for him. "Sybil…"

Her hands continued their work, crossing and pulling at the silk until it fell in the way Tom preferred. "There," she said, still smiling. "You look handsome."

"Sybil, love…"

"Can we talk about this later? Please? I...I'm not mad at you, Tom. Really, I'm not. It's just that if I stand here any longer, I will be back in bed with you and then I actually will be late."

Tom smirked. He gave no warning before pecking at her lips. "I wish...I'm sorry I can't ride in with you."

Sybil shook her head. "No, it's...it's fine. I mean, I'm sorry too but only a couple months left, right?"

"Six weeks."

"Really?"

"Well five considering you have that _thing_ for one of those weeks."

Sybil pursed her lips in amusement. "Your place or mine tonight?"

"My parents want to take me out tonight. For my birthday."

"Oh, then—"

"I'm sure they'd love it if you came."

"I don't want to take away any time they have with you. I know you haven't seen them in a bit."

"No, but it's my birthday, remember?"

"Your birthday's tomorrow," Sybil explained. "We can spend time together then. I want you to have time with your parents."

"Yeah well maybe I want you to be there. So this is me inviting you. And after we can go where you want but you're right, my birthday is tomorrow and I want to wake up with you."

Sybil's eyes fluttered shut as if to record all he'd said and relish in the moment, if only for a too-brief inhale. "I'm going to need you to stop saying such lovely things."

He chuckled. "Oh yeah?"

Sybil pointed a finger to his nose. "And no eye contact today, remember? No jokes. Just...it honestly might be best if you just act like I'm not there. Ignore me completely." Sybil explained. Her words were rushed as the more logical side of her took over.

"Do you want me to call in? I'll tell Dr. Frye I don't feel well and then you can just give me my exam."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Tom pressed his tongue to his cheek. "Not any more than you would, I'm sure."

"Oooh, you…" Sybil growled.

"Alright," Tom laughed. Sybil was already turning away from him, giving him the perfect opportunity to tap at her backside. "Off you go…"

"Tom!"

"I don't want you to be late," he tried, now with hands raised up in guilty surrender.

"I'm sure," Sybil accepted. Her attempt at offense was hidden beneath the smile she wore and how intensely it pulled at the corners of her mouth. Sybil was sure she was even still laughing aloud, and this was made all the more apparent when she shut Tom's bedroom door behind her and found she was not alone.

"Mornin'," Amy Branson said sweetly.

"Morning," Sybil gave back. Both women were still, unsure of who should move first.

"Off to work?"

Sybil nodded. "Yeah, uh...we have a meeting this morning."

"We?"

"Tom and I. Well, I mean, it's not just us. My supervisor will be there and the other two residents working on Tom's case."

Amy smirked. "Oh," she nodded. "Does your supervisor know about your relationship?"

"Uh, no...I mean, not exactly."

"Right," Amy said, looking away.

"I'm…" Sybil closed her eyes in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I know you probably think we're being fanciful again. Or you probably think _I'm_ being fanciful. I'm not quite sure. Either way, I...we didn't ask for this. We're being careful…" Amy's glance changed, causing Sybil to clarify. "Our relationship. We should wait. I get that. But this kind of all just happened and his surgery is almost here and—"

"Sybil, it's fine, dear, really. Tom's an adult and his life is his to live."

There was a pause. "But he works really hard for your approval. You get that, don't you?"

Amy stopped too. "I...I guess I didn't. What are you saying?"

"I'm just saying that yes, he's an adult and while he doesn't need your approval, that doesn't mean he still wouldn't _like_ it."

All she did was nod. "Noted."

Sybil nodded too, doing so much more slowly. She then turned back to the stairs, resolving now to just grab her bag and head out. Before she could though, she found herself looking back to Tom's mother. "Can I say something?"

Amy smirked. "Of course."

"I…I loved Tom a lot back then. I don't care if you don't believe me. I don't care what you thought. I'm sorry if it looked a certain way or if maybe our relationship caused you concern but I really don't care. I truly loved him. With everything in me. And unlike him, I don't need your approval. I wanted it...because that's what he wanted. But I'm an adult now too and I can look back on that year and finally tell myself that it's okay that I felt that way. No one told me it was okay but it was because I absolutely loved the man your son was. He was my world."

"Felt?"

Sybil was near tears again, and just as she had moments earlier, she pushed them back with a heavy gulp of air. "It doesn't matter what I feel now. I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about then. I'm not blaming anyone for our breakup but just know that I loved Tom and he loved me and I may have been young but I know what I felt."

Amy nodded. She had no other choice. Too many truths had been presented to her in such a small period of time that she didn't yet know which one to address first. "I know that now and I'm sorry—"

"And Tom's doing really great now. His department at LSE loves him and I'm sure he'll be Distinguished by the end of the next semester. He already has other universities giving him job offers. You should ask him about it."

"I will."

Sybil turned away once more. Halfway down the steps she was stuck again, unable to move without being honest one last time. Now that she'd started it was as if it was the only thing she was capable of. "I don't need it...you know, for you to approve of me. But I'd like it because I know it'd mean a lot to Tom and his happiness means a lot to me."

"Present tense?" Amy tried, almost in jest.

Sybil could only force a smile. "Present tense." Then: "He's still my world. But until recently I hadn't told myself that was okay either."

* * *

Glad I could post this sooner than I was expecting BUT I'm kind of expecting for reviews to go back down again because that's typically what happens. I'd also like to be proved wrong :)

I hope my M/M readers were happy to see these two. I feel bad I've left you hanging for a bit. Just imagine that anytime Mary and Matthew are not featured, they're off being adorable and successful and good-looking together.

So let me know what you think! I think there's a wedding coming up…

x. Elle


	24. Maybe You Can Love Me Anyway

Tom wish of waking up with Sybil on his birthday came true. It was habit now, usually for Sybil to go to Tom's flat after work and for the two to spend the night together. It was closer to the hospital, or so Sybil told herself when she acknowledged she was somewhat scared by how quickly she was falling for him again. Or maybe she was terrified to learn such a thing wasn't even necessary; their love was automatic and effortless when allowed.

This morning was no different than the rest. The sun was barely up and Sybil found herself waking without the help of an alarm. She turned over in bed to find Tom still dedicated to slumber, with a face flattened into his pillow while his arm lazily reached out for her, resting on her back now as she snuggled further into him. At one point in their relationship she was the one in love with sleep but their professions had somehow changed that. Sybil had no choice but to forfeit sleep for her hours at the hospital and Tom faced the opposite predicament when bouts of depression made his bed feel like refuge.

With the very tip of her index finger, Sybil ran a line over Tom's nose in an attempt to make him stir. He did, but begrudgingly. "Tommmm," Sybil whispered with melody.

"I'm awake," he mumbled with eyes still shut. "And I don't want to be."

"I have to catch my flight soon, remember?"

Tom blinked open his eyes. "Can't you leave tomorrow? I have today off and..."

Sybil smirked. "I don't think Mary would like that very much."

"I thought she was coming around to the idea of me?"

"She's trying," Sybil said slyly, almost in dismissal. "Truly, she is. But this wedding trumps all. She loves me but I think if it came down to it, she'd kill you if it meant this wedding would go as planned."

Tom laughed and Sybil could only smile, especially as he pulled her close and nuzzled her neck with his nose. He pressed a kiss there but slowly began to suck at her skin. Sybil was so lost in the sensation, she didn't have the words to ask him to stop. She did, however, shy away from the action, using her ringing cellphone as an excuse.

"Please tell me that's not the hospital," Tom began. "If that's the hospital…"

Sybil hopped out of bed and walked to her bag. She rummaged through it and when she found the device she returned to her place beside him, this time sitting up and now holding the phone to her chest as if keeping the caller waiting for just a moment longer.

"What? What will you do? You're going to have to get used to it sooner or later."

Sybil picked up the phone, giving a lighthearted "Hey" when she realized it was Mary. But soon her face fell causing Tom to pause as well. He was forced to forget how lovely her declaration was, as if she had asked him to do the very thing he intended: to stay.

"Mary, I'm...no, I'm not at my flat, I'm...yes, I know but I didn't realize the time because I thought I set my alarm and I must not have…" Sybil's mouth was open and she nodded as she continued to listen to her sister. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry! I'll just skip a shower and run to the airport. I still have an hour, right?" She nodded once more. "Yes, of course...I'll see you soon."

Once off the phone Sybil quickly mover about the room to collect her things. "Did you know it was this late?"

"Obviously not. Do you really think I'd let you miss the plane?"

Sybil softened. She was dressed now and she kneeled on the bed to kiss a still-naked Tom. "I have to go!"

"Don't," he tried feebly.

Sybil grinned. "But I have to."

"Mary won't mind…"

"Mary will very much mind. Did you hear her on the phone?"

"No I was too busy staring at your bum," he admitted in a frank, and unashamed tone. "How long again?"

"A week."

Tom flopped back against the mattress. "What am I going to do at my appointments? Trust Will and Ben?"

The childish movement of his limbs had Sybil slowing down again, momentarily forgetting just how precious each minute currently was. "Will won't be there either, remember?"

" _Ben_? I'm supposed to trust _Ben_?" Tom inquired rather loudly. "You're out of your mind!"

"You're supposed to trust Dr. Frye because he's the best in his field. Now let me go before I'm late."

Tom's grip around her waist did not loosen. In fact, his mouth was back upon the soft skin of her neck. "Say please."

" _Please_ let me go before I'm late," Sybil said, playing along.

"Say you'll miss me."

She rolled her eyes but did nothing to separate herself from him. "Of course I'll miss you, you git."

"Say you love me?"

It was this that had Sybil pushing him away and yet she did it in a way that had him more stunned than offended. "I have to go, Tom…" She kissed his lips one last time before grabbing her things and heading for the door. "I'll call you when I land, okay?"

Tom sighed and watched her go. In her absence he returned to his earlier task, one that found him pressed to the bedsheets in an attempt to seek out slumber. When he heard the door downstairs click, he shot up, running immediately for the shower; he was actually meant to be taking a flight that left earlier than Sybil's.

~!~

Thankfully Sybil had already packed her suitcase, making her trip to the airport a short one after she stopped by her flat to pick the bag up. The borrowed time had her walking — not running — to meet her family just before they were ready to board. Her parents' glances were more confused than disapproving but Matthew made fun of her, noting that her frizzy hair told of a rather rough night.

"No," Mary said simply, brushing the comment off, "I doubt Sybil likes it rough...do you?"

"Mary!" Sybil screeched, hoping the words were not heard by her mother and father. When both Robert and Cora remained in a hushed conversation with one another Sybil was able to relax, still smiling at the statement even as they all stepped forward to board the plane.

Once inside Sybil claimed one of the single seats near the window. Everyone else seemed comfortable as they took places on the nearby couch or at the table but Sybil sat with her feet pulled up onto the seat below her. Her mind, it seemed, was still stuck in bed with Tom. This being the case, she grabbed for her phone and smirked to find that he must have been thinking of her too.

"Miss you already," his text read.

Sybil continued to smile as she penned a response. "You're pathetic."

"Sometimes," he responded quickly. "You on the plane?"

"Yes. About to take off, I think. This is going to be a lonnnngggg week," she said, adding to it an emoji with its eyes rolled heavenward.

"Well enjoy it, yeah? You don't have to work. For a whole week. That's grand, right?"

"I don't know what to do with myself. Already."

"Nap?" Tom suggested. "We haven't done a lot of sleeping lately."

"We?" Sybil challenged.

"Oh I'm sorry, have you been spending time with anyone else lately?"

 _No_ , Sybil thought, finding immediately that she enjoyed the weight behind that realization. Her thumbs tapped at the screen, revealing a different truth. "Are you on your way to the hospital?"

"No. Not going."

"Tom! You have to go!"

"Alright, I'm going."

"Promise me?"

"I promise you," he said, just as he was taking a seat on his own plane. He tossed his bag under his seat and sat back. "Going to hop in the shower and then heading out of here," he lied. "Talk to you later?"

Sybil gave a face to her phone as if to show her disapproval. "Of course," she returned. When her screen turned black and she returned her attention out the window at a rather rainy runway, Sybil found herself sad, not only because she missed Tom but because that fact hindered her enjoyment of a week she had genuinely been looking forward to for over a year.

"All right?"

Sybil looked up. Just as she did the plane began to move, signaling their impending takeoff. She forced a smile before responding to her sister who was now sitting in the seat across from her. "Yeah. Work call," she said, shaking her phone as if to give proof.

Mary pursed her lips in amusement. "Well you do see Tom at work so technically you're not lying," she gave. Her eyes rolled in a dramatic attempt at avoiding her sister's glance.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Sybil muttered. "I'm just tired."

"But happy still?"

Sybil remembered their conversation and perked up. Now the grin she shared was genuine but her fingers itched to pick up her phone again and seek him out. "Very happy."

"Then?"

The youngest Crawley girl looked around before moving to sit beside her sister. All at once everyone else failed to exist and in what was likely to be their last true moment alone, Sybil leaned so close to her Mary that she might as well have had her head on her shoulder.

"I'm scared to miss him," she explained simply.

"Why?"

"I don't want to need him. I needed him last time and that's when we fell apart."

"I'd hardly say that's why you fell apart but I don't think any of that matters now. I think you're far past that and I think it's more than okay to miss him. I'm sure he misses you too."

"I feel pathetic. I just saw him. We're not even dating. I mean—"

"You've spent how many nights with him this week?"

"All of them," Sybil admitted sheepishly.

"You're practically dating."

"He...I mean, I'm sure he was kidding, but before I left this morning he kind of told me he loved me?"

Mary raised her eyebrows. "You're sure he was kidding?" she repeated in amused disregard. "And?"

"And I didn't say it back."

"Did you want to?"

"I...I don't know."

"Well you know those sorts of things don't have to be said for them to be true. Just like you don't have to be dating for your feelings for him to be valid. I really don't think any of this is worth all of the trouble, Sybil."

"I thought I was going too fast?"

"I take back what I said. This isn't fast at all," Mary gave through the steady expel of air. "And I'm sorry," she finished quietly.

Sybil looked to her sister, her eyes showing that she was just as surprised as Mary to hear those words. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Mary confirmed. Even so, her gaze struggled to meet Sybil's. There was determination in her words and an unwavering conviction but even she could acknowledge that this conclusion, while not reached overnight, absolutely required more time to properly settle on the eldest Crawley girl's conscience.

"For what?"

"For the way I've treated Tom—"

"Mary…"

"But also for the way I have treated you," she persevered.

"I...I don't understand."

"I haven't been fair to you, Sybil. From that very first night I was being selfish because I was unhappy and I just didn't want you to end up the way I had."

Sybil smirked. "Engaged and about to experience a dream wedding in Scotland?"

Mary smiled too. "But I wasn't the same person then. I never knew Matthew and I would become what we have. But I also had no clue you and Tom would be anything more than a hook-up at a party."

Sybil looked away, returning her attention out the window to the green earth below. "I'd hardly say it was a hook-up."

"Because I walked in," Mary insisted in slight mirth.

"Well...thank you," Sybil resolved.

"You lied, Sybil. And I get why you did...I probably would have too. But I also would have liked to help you with it all. I...I didn't know how you felt about Tom until it was too late. Maybe if I had I could have helped you with Mum and Dad."

"You really think you would have done that?"

"I'd like to think I would have. I think…" Mary gave a heavy exhale. "I think if I knew the way you felt about Tom I would have been supportive. If I could have prevented that fallout, I absolutely would have. And not because Gwen and I had a hell of a time putting you back together. I know what my happiness means to me and I know how lovely my life is because Matthew is in it. Even when he was a wanker you were supportive of me. If I didn't like Tom, I still could have supported you."

A grin pulled at Sybil's lips. "Thanks, Mary."

"I'm sorry it took me so long to say these things, Sybil. That wasn't fair."

"I wasn't expecting them. Ever," she emphasized flatly. "I'll take what I can get."

"And I'm going to do my best to be cordial with Tom. I mean that."

"Good," Sybil accepted with a nod and another smile. "He's…" As her voice trailed off she softened. "Tom's a really, really wonderful man, Mary. I mean that. And it may sound silly to you but he treats me so well...he always has. I'm sorry I kept all of that from you because it really would mean a lot to me for the both of you to get to know one another. I may act like I don't care but I do. I'd really appreciate more than just an attempt to be cordial. I think you'll find that if the two of you weren't so adamant in disliking one another that you actually have some things in common."

"Like being stubborn and headstrong in our hatred of one another?"

"Precisely," Sybil confirmed with pursed lips.

Mary tapped at Sybil's leg as if to warn of her departure. "Matthew looks like he needs some rescuing so you're going to have to excuse me," she explained with her eyes elsewhere, likely on her fiance and the conversation he was having with her father. "I'm sorry that you miss Tom. Just try to enjoy this week, alright?"

She nodded. "I am...I will," she resolved in slight embarrassment. "I'll admit it's a bit odd not being at work right now but I assume I'll get to sleep in one of these days and I'm looking forward to that." Mary gave her sister a look, causing Sybil to drop her head back and laugh. "And your wedding, of course! I'm excited for that too."

~!~

Mary had a wedding planner, or rather, a team of wedding planners all of them with different tasks: food, flowers, dresses, and even housing. The latter was being handled quite ceremoniously, making Sybil feel like she was at summer camp waiting for her bunk assignment. All the while she looked to her phone, stunned that the recently acquired cellphone service did nothing to procure a text from Tom. As she waited for further instruction she checked the device, even going into her messages to ensure she had not missed anything.

"Sybil, here you go," the wedding planner vocalized, bringing her back to the present. The group of family and friends that previously surrounded her had dwindled to nothing. "I'm sorry dear, I didn't even see you waiting."

"Oh, uh, it's fine, really," she gave, smiling sweetly before she grabbed her key. "And where am I headed?"

"Follow the coast," she instructed. "Yours is the last cabin on the left."

Another smile was shared but soon Sybil was walking away, wondering if maybe she should have grabbed something to eat before retreating to her accommodations alone. Halfway there she began to ponder something else: if she had sufficient time to reward herself with a nap. The weather was still so dreary and she was surprised to find it had not started to rain.

At the door she made slow motion of pushing in. She carried two large duffel bags, both heavy on her body and making pronounced noises as she dropped them at her feet. Pulling out the key she realized just how exhausted she felt, and she let out a heavy sigh in show of this.

"You should have called me," Tom called out, now from his position standing in the archway separating the main part of the cabin from what would be their shared bedroom. Sybil was slackjawed, quite literally the most surprised he had ever seen her. Because of this he let out a laugh and stepped toward her. "I would have helped you carry your bags," Tom reasoned with a casual shrug.

Sybil blinked several times but soon she went to him, standing before him with hands pressed flat to his chest while she took him in. "Why are you...this...this isn't funny, Tom!"

"What's not funny?"

"You being here!" she explained. "Mary will—"

"What?"

"How did you even know...when did you get here?" she tried instead.

"Only about fifteen minutes before you did. Had to stall the wedding planner a bit. Sorry you had to wait."

"You…" Sybil paused. She looked to the door then back again. "The wedding planner? She knows you're here?"

"She does. Mary told her I was coming."

Sybil swallowed. "Wh...what?"

Tom chuckled again before pressing his hands to Sybil's cheeks. "Love, for such a smart woman..."

"Did Matthew invite you?"

"No!" Tom laughed again. "Mary invited me."

Sybil's eyes widened. "She didn't."

"She did actually. In person too."

"How...when did this happen?"

"Two weeks ago?" Tom guessed. "I don't know. Does it matter?"

"I can't…" Sybil let out a laugh of her own. "You kept this from me?"

"It's hardly a lie," Tom reasoned. "I mean...are you upset?"

"Upset?" Sybil repeated. "No, I'm just...Mary lied to me," she said, more in acknowledgement than accusation.

"Aye, we both did."

"She...she really invited you?"

"Yes, Syb! Really!"

"You're...I mean, are you here for the wedding or—"

"No, I think she just wanted me to bed you before and after," Tom deadpanned.

Sybil smirked. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"

Tom tightened the grip he had around her hips and moved his arms so he was enveloping her fully. She beamed up at him. "Are you asking me if I'm happy I don't have to go a week without you? Then yes, I'm very happy."

She smiled, stopping only when he pressed his lips softly against hers, breathing her in. "I still need that shower. You want in?"

Tom shrugged. "I don't know...was thinking I'd see if a game was on," he said, now gesturing toward the nearby television. Sybil's gaze narrowed causing Tom to sputter out a laugh. "Yeah, love, I'd say I have time for that."

All Sybil could do was kiss him again. Her hands did not want to leave his skin and she found her feet moving as her body worked to match his trajectory toward what she could only assume was the bathroom. Just before they reached the door she pushed him away, mostly for air but also to share one last bit of disbelief. "So you're really here then? To stay?"

"To stay," he promised. Tom smiled before seizing her lips once more.

* * *

I wanted to post this earlier but I went home for the holiday weekend meaning when I came back to my office I was overwhelmed with work. A big THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed last chapter! If the chapter was written at that point I would have posted it then as a reward for all of the lovely things that were said. So again, thanks to those of you who are reading and especially those of you who review. I appreciate the support more than you'll ever know!

x. Elle


	25. 8 Years (Too) Late

"I'm drunk."

Tom chuckled as Sybil walked slowly beside him. Her hips swayed to aid in the movement of her unsteady feet as they neared their cottage. The dinner they'd just shared with Sybil's family was oddly uneventful; Tom received only glares from Cora and found himself feeling lucky that was the case. Everyone else made little fanfare of his appearance, but Matthew assured Tom that the rest of the week's festivities would involve far more people.

Sybil was long past the intimate dining setting they'd left behind. She was waiting for Tom to give her a similar declaration and when none came, she nudged him with her shoulder. "Aren't you drunk?"

Again he was laughing. "No, Syb. I'm not drunk."

"No?" she asked, genuinely surprised. "I thought we said we were going to get drunk…" Her speech was far from slurred but Tom couldn't help but to adore the way the timbre in her voice lightened as each statement of discovery took on a more melodic tone.

"No, love…" Tom tried. Sybil pouted and Tom was smiling again. " _You_ said you wanted to get drunk and _I_ said 'okay'..."

"I thought that was you saying you wanted to get drunk too." Sybil was still put off by Tom's sober state and she wore a disconcerted face as she turned their door key in its lock and shoved her way inside.

Tom shrugged out of his waistcoat and tossed the item to a nearby chair. "It was more me saying that I supported that decision and would take care of you if things got out of hand."

"Have I ever gotten out of hand?" Sybil asked seriously, her voice low.

"Yeah, actually," Tom chuckled as he remembered a certain incident in particular. Sybil's dismissal sounded so ironic he practically heard her acknowledge the very same memory.

It was a night before he was expected to go home for Holiday break and the two agreed to do away with his remaining stash of liquor. Sybil did her best that night to appear strong, but the next morning she was fresh out of memories as a migraine pounded behind her hungover eyes. She remembered dropping her head back in laughter and she remembered the taste of whiskey on Tom's tongue. She did not remember the way he took care of her, holding her weight up in the shower and then tucking her carefully into bed so he could finish packing his suitcase and cleaning up his loft around her.

"As long as you're not judging me…"

Tom raised his hands in surrender. "Certainly not judging."

Sybil leaned back, both hands on either side of the doorframe, supporting her weight with little effort. All of her felt weightless and while she understood his altogether safe decision, she was somewhat upset to find the two existed in a different state. "Well, did you…" Nervousness caused her voice to trail off. "I give you full permission to take advantage of me," she said slyly, finally allowing her heavylidded eyes to meet his. "If you wanted to…"

Tom smirked and went to her. Her arms only fell when his hands clung to her hips. With a wide smile she looked up to him. "I wish I could, but—"

Sybil sighed and pushed him away. "You're no fun, Tom Branson."

"I'm getting drinks with your father."

She looked to him, her glance questioning his words. "Are you going to get drunk with him then?"

Tom pressed a hand to his belly and let out a large scoff. "I highly doubt that will happen. I just want to talk to him."

Her back was to him now, and she stared at her reflection in the mirror on the wall while she removed her earrings. "What? Are you going to ask him to marry me?"

When the room fell silent Sybil's heart stopped. She then realized all oxygen was gone too and she found only an anxious chuckle of her own could excuse such a question. "I don't know why I said that," she mumbled as she pressed her fingertips to her lips in apology.

Tom could only laugh. His hands were in his pockets and he stood back now, admiring how uninhibited Sybil was being and how for as vulnerable as she had been lately, this was the first time he'd seen her truly let go. Even in their lovemaking he knew she was holding back, and he missed these parts of her, mostly because he knew this was a part of Sybil few others ever saw. He only wished such a thing could happen without the encouragement of too many glasses of red wine.

"What are you going to say?" Sybil tried again, this time feigning composure and sobriety.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes!" she guffawed. "To me it matters very much!"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Can you just trust me please?"

"Don't embarrass me…"

"If anyone's going to be embarrassed, it's going to be me. Trust me." Tom stepped into Sybil and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Wait up for me?"

"You're still going?" she practically shrieked.

"Of course I'm still going!" Tom admitted with a laugh. "It was my idea! I've invited him and you've made no argument in your favor!"

"What if I get naked?"

Tom grinned. "Then you'll be naked and I'll be gone. But I hope, once again, that you'll wait up for me. I won't be gone long, alright?"

Sybil dramatically pouted. A sigh pushed her bottom lip out even further. "Alright."

Tom locked the door behind him. Just as he was stuffing the key into his pocket, and reveling slightly in the way his heart hoped such an action would someday be commonplace, Robert's appearance reminded him that was not his current reality. The Vice Chancellor smiled weakly and Tom met him in silence, both men immediately heading off back down the hill Sybil and Tom had only just climbed.

At this hour and with their desire for both alcohol and noiselessness, there were few choices in town for Robert and Tom to pick from. They settled on a mostly empty bar where only locals littered the space in front of the bartender. That same man greeted them with a smile and took their drink orders - Tom ordered a stout and was amused to find Robert doing the same.

"Why am I not surprised you like stout?"

Tom smirked as he took his first sip of the liquid. "Stereotypes, I guess." He sat back. "Would it surprise you if I said that Sybil also likes stout?"

"Little surprises me when it comes to Sybil."

Tom nodded and took another gulp at his foamed glass. "I know what you mean…"

"Are you going to ask me to marry her?"

"Funny...she said the same thing." Tom wondered what Robert knew. It was likely, he figured, that he was aware of the time Sybil was spending at his own flat. But in remembering that the two were not in fact dating, Tom found himself wishing he were drunk, if only to momentarily forget.

"So she is thinking about it?"

"I don't...she's a bit langers," Tom explained. "She didn't understand why I wanted to talk to you. I think it was the wine talking."

"Well for the past several years that was the furthest thing on Sybil's mind. It's only been a topic of conversation lately."

"Marriage?"

"Not necessarily. More of a future...one where she's not alone."

Tom's eyebrows piqued. "Because of the wedding?"

"No," Robert chuckled, "because of you."

There was a heavy sigh, accompanied by fidgety fingers that moved upon the napkin collecting condensation beneath Tom's glass. "I...god, this isn't easy," he revealed with a breathy chuckle. "I, uh, I'm sorry I guess." Tom closed his eyes. "Not I guess...I am. And now that I'm saying it I realize Mrs. Crawley should probably be here too but for whatever reason it's important to me that you know I never meant to hurt Sybil. I still can't believe she's even agreed to talk to me again and I'm just doing my best not to take any of this for granted. I'm doing everything I can to make her happy...just like I did then. And I want you to know that I know I messed up but I'm not going to do it again."

"I know," Robert gave simply.

Tom's gaze remained on the selection of whiskey behind the bar. "No, I don't think you do."

"No, I do," Robert assured. "I didn't hate you then, Tom. I mean, I wanted to. I didn't like the way you lied to my face and I certainly wasn't fond of the pain you caused Sybil but I wasn't angry at you for leaving. I was actually quite glad. Sybil did well at Harvard and she's doing extremely well now at the hospital because of it. She needed that time to be on her own and to figure her career out." He paused. "I'll have you maimed if you ever tell her this but thank you."

"What?"

"Don't question it. If we're being honest I've spent a lot of time trying to rationalize it myself and now that you're back I'm certainly not going to try to figure it out. Sybil has the job she wants and now the man she's always wanted is back. Both of my daughters are happy and that's honestly all I could ever ask for."

"Christ…" Tom breathed out before rubbing at his mouth in disbelief. "Alright."

"So you're not asking for her hand in marriage?"

"I'm...we're not...no," he settled with yet another nervous chortle. "But your opinions mean the world to Sybil. So obviously it means a lot to me too. I won't ask that she be with me if it's something that's going to cause her stress."

"Mary's invited you to her wedding."

"I know," Tom laughed. "I still don't get that either."

"There's not much to get. You win Mary over, you've got us all. She's the toughest one to crack."

"I don't think I've won her over. I just think she loves Sybil a lot. I can't argue with that."

"We can't live in the past, Tom. It doesn't do any of us in the present any good. We've all moved on and it seems Sybil has too. If you're the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with, then I'm okay with that."

"I don't know what she wants. I only know what I want. But if she wants what I want then dear god I'd be a pretty lucky bloke if she chose to spend the rest of her life with me."

"Well I can't fault Sybil for maybe being a bit guarded. Though it's worth noting that she hasn't brought a man around, much less taken a date to a wedding, since you left."

"I know…"

"I think Sybil knows what she wants...she always has. Before she didn't want to tell the rest of us...now it seems she doesn't want to admit it to herself. Though I'd say you being here is a fairly large indication of how she feels and I'm happy to know she's not completely hiding things anymore. Soon, I imagine, she'll embrace the truth more fully."

"Does it help that I went to Cambridge?"

"Yes," Robert admitted honestly. "The PhD is nice too."

"I appreciate the honesty."

"It's the only thing that truly works in this family. Lies manage to really muck everything up. Are you taking notes?"

Tom smirked. "I guess I am. Who's to be avoided tomorrow?"

"My mother. Cora's mother. My sister Rosamund. Cora's brother Harold."

He chuckled. "Alright, let's try the shorter list. Who should I make a point to introduce myself to?"

Robert took a beat of pause. "My mother. Cora's mother. My sister Rosamund…"

Tom nodded in acceptance, finding himself to be somewhat giddy and embarrassingly so. The mere idea of he and Sybil's father, his former Vice Chancellor, going out for drinks was somewhat ridiculous in his mind. And it was equally unbelievable to him that after this he'd be going home to Sybil and in the morning she'd be there as well, hopefully pressed softly into his side.

"Fair." He smiled as he put his now empty glass back upon the bar. "Got it."

~!~

When Tom got in all the lights were off in the cottage, save a stream of soft yellow painted upon the floor outside the bedroom. As he approached he expected to see Sybil awake, possibly with her glasses on and likely with a book in her lap. That was not the case though, and yet he smiled at the sight he did find: Sybil in one of his t-shirts, her body curving into itself as she slept uncovered, her hands pressed softly beneath her head.

He resolved to meet her there and moved slowly, removing his own clothing until he was down to only his pants. Only as he settled into the bed beside her did Sybil finally stir. Tom had turned the light off but he saw her features painted by the moon coming in from the skylight above.

"Hey," she mumbled weakly.

"Hey," he gave back. "Sorry to wake you."

Sybil shook her head. Silently she turned to him, still not caring that she was upon the bedsheets while Tom was nestled beneath. "S'okay," she tried. With closed eyes she continued. "How was it?"

"Grand. Your dad gave me his blessing."

This had Sybil's gaze seeking Tom out. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," Tom sassed. "But only because I went to Cambridge."

Sybil's nose scrunched upward and she let out the most adorable giggle. "Of course."

Tom felt brave with her near, and though pieces of her seemed to still be lost in slumber, he somehow managed to coax her under the covers with him. There she instantly had her arm across his chest while her mouth sought solace near the crook of his neck. "What did he really say?"

"That he wants you to be happy."

"I am," Sybil assured. "I'm sorry if I—"

"Sybil, it's fine."

"Does he think we're moving too fast?"

"It doesn't seem that way. And that's saying something considering it's likely he thinks we're dating...and we're not."

Sybil opened her eyes, but only so she could criticize Tom with her glance. "Was that _meant_ to hurt me?"

He sighed. "Of course not. But it's the truth, isn't it?"

Sybil looked away from him. It was somewhat odd to realize how close they were while simultaneously acknowledging the distance that still existed between them at times - all of it self-induced. "You're being cruel."

"Sybil, I didn't—"

"Of course we're dating."

"Oh?"

"I mean...we are, right?"

"Well I haven't taken you on any dates."

"You've made me dinner almost every night this past week. I've slept over at your place...every night this past week." Sybil added in fond recollection.

Tom looked down to Sybil and pushed back at her hairline. "When this is all over we're changing that. I didn't really get to take you out back then either and—"

"Tom, I don't care about any of that," Sybil hushed softly. Her voice begged that he listen and so he did, wondering if she could hear his heart beating from where her cheek was pressed to his chest. "I don't know why I'm still so scared to acknowledge what we are. But Mary said something and it made me realize, I mean, of course we're dating. What else would you call it? And now that I've admitted this to myself, it seems silly. But you're right, we weren't much for dates then and we certainly can't go on them now. So that's not what I miss. And to be honest, while the dinners and the sex is nice, that's not what I miss either. I think I only realized it on the cab ride to the airport but I just missed you?" Sybil whispered, her voice moving as if in question. Tom wasn't sure if she was shocked by her own words or if she was confirming his comprehension. "Just you and me. Us...together," her voice settled. "I think I could be sitting in silence in an empty room with you and still be very, very happy. I just need you close and when you are suddenly work and my family and whatever else doesn't matter as much. I knew how much I used to want you...and I was scared then too, terrified about what I'd do if you left. But then you did and I realized I actually could exist without you. The problem is that I don't want to and it's the best feeling knowing that I finally have the power to make that choice...and it's my choice alone to make."

Immediately Tom understood, and with an ache in his chest and a lump in his throat, he craned his neck to press a kiss to Sybil's willing lips. "That's pretty poetic for a girl who proudly stated not too long ago that she was twisted."

Sybil giggled. "I think you'll find a racing mind has a sobering effect on the body."

"Aye."

"I'm sorry if that was heavy, I just…"

It was Tom's turn to laugh. "'T'was...and now I'm starting to think I'm drunk because I can't make much sense of my own thoughts…"

"Keep thinking," Sybil suggested in mirth, "It goes away."

Tom finally expelled a heavy sigh. "I...I want you to be my girlfriend, Sybil. That's all I've ever wanted. And I know what you want from me. I know you want me to leave the past behind but if I'm being honest, it's a struggle. I still can't believe I ever let you go because the moment I saw you at the hospital again, my mind was already made up. I wanted you back and I've somehow gotten you back and now I'm doing everything I can to never let you go. I never want to stop choosing you, Syb." There was a short pause. "And I'm sorry I ever did."

A silence fell over the room. Just for a moment, Tom swore he could hear the ocean hugging the shore, only to retreat again. He wondered what hour it was, but the only indication of time was marked by the rise and fall of Sybil's breathing, soft against his neck.

"So tomorrow…" she began finally. "I'll introduce you as my boyfriend."

"Is that a question or a statement?"

"I'm not quite sure," she admitted with a breathy laugh.

"It's unreal to think how unfamiliar this is. Something so simple...I never had the chance to introduce you like that before. You were always just a friend."

"I don't know if you and I are capable of ever being just friends. But you're absolutely a friend to me, Tom. A best friend."

"I don't think they'll know what you mean if you introduce me like that."

"No? Well then I'll call you my boyfriend to appease them...I'd be lying if I said I haven't waited nearly a decade to do so."

Tom smirked and pressed a kiss to Sybil's temple. "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to enjoy it."

* * *

I'm soooorrrryyyy it has taken me so long to post! Again, you all were so damn good at reviewing and I just didn't have the chapter written to show you my gratitude. Last chapter's author's note still applies: I'm ridiculously busy and exhausted because of it. I really want to respond to reviews but I figured you all would prefer I spend the time on a chapter instead. Still going to try to do that but I make no promises! With how long this took me, I better start on that next chapter NOW!

Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be longer - I promise!

x. Elle


	26. Faith in Fate

When Tom sat down the church was mostly empty. Sybil insisted on punctuality, leaving him alone to stare at the marble columns around him. Older wooden chairs circled what he could only assume was the altar. Tomorrow, he was sure, there'd be far more of them and they'd likely be covered in soft linen and perhaps even a bow. Tom had caught a glimpse of Sybil's bridesmaid dress hanging in their closet: a dusty blue gown that was equal parts simple and elegant. He imagined the way it would sit on Sybil's hips, but he didn't dare wonder about the cost of such a frock.

Even in his solitude, his phone buzzed and he was more than glad to find it was a text from Sybil and not another work email he'd be forced to ignore.

"I forgot how intense Mary's friends are," she said simply.

Tom smiled. "Mary has friends?"

"Ha Ha," Sybil gave back. Tom could imagine the way she undoubtedly rolled her eyes at her phone and he wondered who was around her, catching her doing so. But then: "Only one. So just a friend, I suppose. And our cousin Rose. Mary didn't have many options after I left for the states. She had Matthew and little else."

"And now she has this ridiculous wedding."

"Ridiculous?" He couldn't see her but Sybil raised an eyebrow in question.

"Extravagant?" Tom tried.

"I'd say they've had quite a relationship. I mean, they've been dating for almost a decade now. The party seems appropriate, all things considered."

"Wow. A decade."

"Too long?"

"Wellll," Tom exaggerated in a single text, "I didn't have you for almost a decade. Can't imagine if I did, really. Maybe I'm jealous."

"I don't know if I'm jealous, but it's certainly admirable. But everyone has their own story, right?"

"We certainly do," Tom kidded. As if he was satisfied with their brief conversation, Tom clicked off his phone and tucked the device into the breast pocket of his blazer.

In a room in the building just next to the chapel, Sybil performed a similar function, though more out of necessity. Mary had been staring at her for quite some time and Sybil now felt her elder sister's glance existed out of mandate rather than curiosity. Rose and Mary's friend Carly had turned into one another, sharing photos of Rose's new puppy and the baby girl Carly had left back home in London for the weekend. Their inactivity left Sybil with no other choice but to approach Mary.

"Tom's...you were right," she sighed. "We're dating."

Mary scoffed out a chuckle. "Is that resignation or declaration?"

"I'm just acknowledging it. Keeping you up to speed...though I guess that's the first time I've said that aloud and now that I have it does sound odd."

"Odd?"

"We didn't need to label it before and yet we did and it felt natural. Now it feels...silly."

"Silly?"

Sybil sighed again. "I think I'm overwhelmed by my feelings."

Mary laughed. "It's scary admitting those things to yourself, yeah?"

"Yeah…" Sybil exhaled raspily. "More scary than admitting it to him, honestly."

"You've been honest with him then? You've told him you love him?"

"I don't...I mean—"

"Sybil, darling, c'mon now...do I have to convince you of this as well? I mean, this isn't you admitting defeat. You've already forgiven him and forgiven yourself for doing so. This is hardly the time to drag your feet. What more does the poor bloke have to do to get you to be honest?"

"Nothing," Sybil assured. Soon the word came more softly, as if its weight knocked the air from Sybil's lungs. "Nothing…"

Mary gave a heavy exhale. "Do you want to know how many times Matthew told me he loved me before I said it back?"

"Twice?" Sybil guessed hesitantly.

"Seventeen times, actually," Mary laughed, as if remembering. "And it's not like I needed time to meet him there emotionally...I loved him for far longer than I think I ever realized. In the beginning it was a bit fun to watch him squirm, but then I got selfish...I liked knowing he would tell me how he felt even knowing it was likely he wouldn't get that back. Talk about overwhelming...I mean, thinking of it now almost makes me want to cry."

"Yeah?" Sybil entertained with a wide smile.

"I said _almost_ ," Mary warned.

"Is this where you tell me not to make Tom wait too long? Are you actually sticking up for him?"

"Not quite...and never. I'm team 'Sybil's happiness' and I think you should be too."

Sybil's shoulders dropped. "Mary…"

"I mean it, Sybil. I was so overwhelmed when I acknowledged just how deeply Matthew cared for me but somehow it became even more intense when I was honest with myself on how I felt about him. Then I was the one who wanted to say it and I didn't care if he said it back. Sometimes you just know and I know with Matthew...I always have. He could never tell me he loves me for the rest of our days and I still wouldn't tire of telling him how I feel about him. There's something quite magical about that, actually...that sense of security in knowing the person you love, loves you back."

"I'm sorry I lied to you."

Mary's smile fell. "What?"

"Back then. I've never apologized and I...I'm sorry I lied to you," she repeated.

"About you and Tom?"

"Well, sure. But about how I felt. In general. You were actually rather fearless when it came to sharing your feelings about Matthew. I was afraid to even utter Tom's name around you."

"Oh, Sybil, darling…" Mary gave with a hand pressed to her sister's shoulder. "It makes sense, you know."

"I'm surprised I was able to keep it a secret...us," she finished lightly. "I felt a lot of what you're feeling now. It's the most indescribable feeling. I didn't know it was possible to feel that much...and for as much pain as he caused me, I still loved him more."

Mary pursed her lips in support. " _Loved_ him?" They were back to square one.

"He's my boyfriend again," Sybil sighed out. "We're starting there."

~!~

The rehearsal dinner, like all of the week's events thus far, was mostly effortless. Tom imagined how long Mary had planned these things and how it was likely the eldest Crawley girl insisted on perfection. In a way, he smiled to think she deserved such a thing; It was amusing at best to find himself wanting happiness for others the more his own life was coming together.

Even so, Tom felt awkward without Sybil by his side and the glances she gave him throughout the rehearsal did little to quell his anxiety. Really, all of life was beginning to feel that way and more intensely so the closer he got to his procedure. Life was, and somehow always had been, normal and good and okay when Sybil was there. Her absence, no matter how brief, highlighted a weakness within Tom. He couldn't help but to love her and to do so without abandon when she had yet to give him anything similar and concrete in return.

When the ceremony ended and everyone filtered out, Tom paused to take a look at his phone. He'd immediately turned the device back on — a habit he'd taken up several years back when Rory and Emilee came to live with him. It only intensified when he was away from them, especially after Emilee's latest incident with Pat. Sybil hadn't commented on the matter, but she saw the way his attention shifted sometimes and it was a distraction she welcomed mostly because she was warmed by it.

Clicking his phone off, Tom moved to stand but was abruptly hindered, causing him to sit back in his chair.

"Sit," Cora demanded.

Tom blinked, noticing how her hybrid accent was now leaning toward her American upbringing. With his hands now on his knees and his gaze fixed back to the altar, he sighed out. "Okay then."

Cora did not turn to him, but their conversation continued. It was almost as if she were trying to hide their interaction, not taking into account that they were the only two left in the now empty church. "It was Mary's idea to invite you, not mine."

Tom gave a pronounced nod. "I'm aware of that."

"I'm glad that you and my husband have had your little natter but I hope you are smart enough to know that I love my daughter, but I strongly dislike you."

"You know what?" Tom attempted cheerily, "A lot of people have been telling me that and up until a few weeks ago, Sybil was one of them but you're the first person I believe."

"You lied to me," she seethed.

Tom gave a more matter-of-fact answer in response. "We lied to everyone," he reasoned.

"This isn't about the two of you. You and I are having this discussion. You were the adult in that situation, Tom."

"I was older, if that is what you were saying…"

"No, I'm saying—"

"Okay well I guess it's what _I'm_ saying," Tom gave strongly and with eyes and a posture that now turned toward Cora. "I know Sybil was young and I'm sure there's nothing I can do or say to show you she was in control but—"

"In control?"

"Well she was. I followed her lead, I—"

"So it's her fault?"

"It's no one's fault, Mrs. Crawley. I'm sorry but out of all of the things you could be bringing up right now, this hardly seems relevant."

"We'll get to those things," Cora glared.

Tom gave a heavy sigh. "Look...I'm sorry she was sixteen and then I was sorry she was seventeen because I fell very, very in love with your daughter. That's it. It had nothing to do with her being Dr. Crawley's daughter or Mary's sister or some young teenage girl...she was never those things to me. I didn't even know any of those things when we met. But I'm sorry you live in a world that so easily lets you define maturity and worth by the number of years a person has existed on this planet."

"There are lines, Tom," Cora followed quickly as if to negate all he had just said.

"Yeah, and we crossed them. And I'm sorry. Again."

"And then you left—"

"I didn't leave," Tom assured. "I pushed her away. Which, I guess I couldn't win there either. You all wanted me to leave her alone and I did and suddenly her happiness is important? That hardly seems fair."

"My daughter's happiness was and will always be important, Tom."

"But you were so caught on the fact that your seventeen year old daughter was dating a twenty-six year old that you couldn't pause to realize how happy she was."

"Was I supposed to think you two would last forever?"

"I don't know. But I know if I had a kid, I wouldn't be wishing away the person or things that make them smile."

"I know this isn't you turning this around on me," Cora raged in a hush.

"Oh, no...of course not. But if we're going to discuss me mucking this up, then let's get to the heart of the issue. Sybil's age had nothing to do with me calling things off."

"I beg your pardon?" It was this that had Cora finally turning toward him. "You said you wanted her to go to Harvard."

"Wow, and bully for that! Yes, Mrs. Crawley, that is absolutely what I wanted and if Sybil was twenty-one and graduating from Cambridge I'd want that same thing for her and I'd do what I did again if it meant she could succeed in this way. She's practically running that Cardiology wing, you know. You want to talk about age? How about the fact that she's not even twenty-five and she already has other hospitals asking for her."

"In Ireland?" Cora scoffed.

Tom's voice fell, losing just a bit of its sarcasm. "That's not funny."

"I am proud of Sybil, Tom. I am proud of her now just like I was proud of her then. She is my baby and sometimes she's so fanciful she can't even fathom how the world will break her heart. But you did and now she's forgiven you and I guess I'm the only one waiting for it to happen again."

"Well you're going to be waiting for a long time."

"I can't tell her who she should spend her time with and I will bite my tongue if that is what it takes but if you have any doubts—"

"Not a single one," Tom insisted, almost with pride.

"I don't—"

"I'm really sorry to disappoint you but I plan on being in Sybil's life indefinitely."

"Marriage?"

He shrugged to show his ability to yield. "If that's what she wants."

"Children?"

"Loads of 'em…" He kidded. But Cora's brow furrowed, so he corrected himself. "Two. Because that's what she wants."

There was a pause and in it Tom wondered if Sybil was elsewhere, thinking of him. "You've discussed children then?"

Tom exhaled. "Not recently."

Cora moved her fingertips to her forehead as if to point out a headache. Tom watched, wondering if he'd made her cry. He softened at the thought realizing his somewhat cocky demeanor, while an effective armor, was not helping the situation. "I know this is hard. If I were you, I'd hate me too, I guess. I get angry at the thought of anyone hurting Sybil and I did...I hurt her badly. I'm working and will continue to work to show her how much she means to me—"

"That wasn't the problem, Tom. And even when you lied to me, I knew how you felt about her and she about you. She also knew exactly how you felt and she returned those feelings and that's why she ached. And if you do this again—"

"It's not going to happen again," he insisted, slightly annoyed. "That's not who I am. It's a thing I did...a really stupid thing. I freaked out. You're right, you know, she was young. I was thinking of marriage and children then and that's fucking scary when the girl you're in love with is almost ten years younger than you...especially because yes, she was thinking of those things too. I wanted her to go out there and figure it out on her own. I mean, I had and she deserved that too. And now we're caught up and I'm sorry it's taken us almost eight years to figure this out. But I didn't want her to settle. I wanted everything she has now and I'm okay with the fact that she obtained it all because I wasn't in her life." There was a beat of silence. "Sybil is brilliant. And beautiful. She's funny and thoughtful and just unbelievably compassionate. You're right to be proud of her...I'm proud of her too. And you don't have to like me. I just beg that you don't make her life a living hell because of it. I can't believe it either, if it helps. She could have anyone in the world and she's chosen me."

"I don't think she had much of a say in it," Cora smirked - for the first time.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I tried to believe that she deserved better. I mean, I do believe that. But she's the only thing that makes sense and I can apologize for a million things I've done or haven't done but I won't apologize for that."

"I won't make your life a living hell…"

"Thank you."

Cora looked to him again. "Are you bringing her back to Ireland?"

Tom's mind raced, pondering what it was Sybil had told her mother. "I don't live in Ireland. I live in London, just like she does. I'll go where she goes. I can get a job anywhere."

"She's going to work a lot," Cora warned.

Tom chuckled. "She already works a lot."

"If you two have children, I expect you to help her out."

"Help her out? You mean work together to raise a family? Of course."

It was possible she was unaware of the feature, but Cora wore a soft smile. "Do you always have the answers?"

Tom smiled too, this time with his attention back to the altar. "Hardly. She's just the one thing in life I've ever been sure of."

~!~

When Tom found Sybil she was standing just outside the ballroom where Mary and Matthew's rehearsal dinner was beginning. She had her cellphone pressed to her ear but when she saw Tom her eyes widened and she sighed, his presence causing her to put the device away and go to him.

"Next time you disappear, do me a favor and let me know first, yeah?"

Tom smirked. "I wouldn't call that much of a disappearance, but I'm sorry…"

Sybil's eyes narrowed. Now she was far more curious than she was concerned. "Where were you anyway?"

"With your mother."

"With my mother?" she repeated, slightly appalled.

"I was cornered," Tom explained but as he remembered the recent conversation he corrected himself. "Errr...pewed? It was either jump the pew and exit or face her wrath. With my heart condition, I settled on the latter."

"Was she...what does she want?"

"For you to be happy," he gave just as simply.

Sybil leaned into Tom, all of her weight falling into him as she smiled up at him with a lazy, somewhat silly, grin. "I am happy. I'm very happy."

"I know. Or, at least I think I know. And if you're not, I need you to let me know so I can fix it."

She shook her head. "There's nothing to fix. I'm happy. Promise."

Tom wrapped his arms around her and pressed a soft kiss to her plump lips. "Me too."

~!~

Dinner was fluid and Tom found each passing moment banishing every insecurity he'd packed with him. He met some of Sybil's family and was assured that this night was far more important than the one that was to follow.

"Tomorrow we get to have fun but today you get to meet my family," she explained.

Tom's gaze narrowed. "Is this okay then? That I'm meeting your family, I mean."

Sybil giggled. "It's going to have to be, yeah? I mean, you're here and they're here..." She paused, suddenly overwhelmed by her inability to joke for too long. They'd spent the past several months doing that very thing and now she found herself incapable of hiding the truth, even in jest. "I want you here, Tom. I'm happy you're here. This means a lot to me."

Tom grabbed for Sybil's hand and held it in his own. As they clasped fingers and she began to pull him off toward another table, he stopped her, jolting her body back to his if only so he could press a kiss to the back of her palm. "Do they...I mean, no one knows who I am?"

Sybil smirked. "Is that a question or an observation?"

"I've observed that and now I'm asking for clarification," he stated plainly, only causing Sybil's smirk to widen.

"No," she sighed, this time with resolve. "They have no idea this isn't new."

"This?"

"Us," Sybil practically whispered.

"I've told both your mother and father now."

Sybil's chest tightened. "What? That we met at a party and you took me to Dublin so we could spend a weekend shagging in a posh bed and breakfast?"

"No," Tom laughed. But like her, he was serious again. "About how I felt about you then. I figured that was more important. The rest is...well it was...detail, I guess. I'm sorry if—"

"Stop apologizing...please."

"Well if anyone does know I need them to know that we were more than just that night. It's not...it's not selfish," Tom sighed out. "I don't want them judging you or thinking—"

Sybil's lips pursed into a puckered smile. "What did you tell them then?"

There was a simple yet altogether earth shattering moment of clarity before Tom's admission. "That I was very in love with you. That you meant a lot to me and you still mean a lot to me."

"Do you think they believed you?"

Tom paused for a moment. "Honestly I'm not quite sure. But I'm also deciding if I care or not. I lied to them—"

" _We_ lied to them," Sybil corrected causing Tom to smirk as he remembered the way her mother had admonished him for referring to Sybil and him as a single unit.

"Well I'm not lying anymore. That's the truth and it's the truth whether they believe me or not." A small beat found Sybil's breath caught in the back of her throat as she waited for Tom to continue. "That's the truth even if you don't believe me or feel that same way now, I—"

"You're here now, aren't you?"

"Well yeah, but—"

In the momentary silence Sybil realized that her and Tom remained latched at the hand and were now standing inexplicably close as they continued their conversation. "Maybe I knew you'd be back," Sybil settled with a shrug. There was honesty in her statement and with it the bravery it took to utter the very thought. This was plausible; perhaps Sybil continued to keep Tom a secret to avoid her family's judgement — the same judgement that failed to exist now as he met Sybil's aunts and uncles and not-too distant cousins.

~!~

Sybil's cousin Rose insisted on telling her all she'd done while away at university and Tom took advantage of the privacy she so clearly seeked to excuse himself from the situation. With a hand to the small of Sybil's back, she leant into Tom as he pressed a kiss to her cheek and explained that he'd soon return.

There wasn't a line at the bar, making it easy for Tom to order a pint and another glass of wine for Sybil. As he waited for the bartender to prepare the order, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned around, ready to survey the crowd again and calculate who it was he had left to meet. Before he could, however, he was nudged by Matthew who seemed to find enjoyment in Tom's nerves. In a flash the two were back to being roommates that knew little to nothing about one another.

"Holy fuck, I can't win tonight…" he sighed out.

Matthew beamed. "Welcome to the family, mate!"

"The family? This isn't my wedding, it's yours."

"Maybe...well, it is, but what I mean is that you better get used to it. I got the same treatment the first Christmas I came around."

Tom sighed. "You didn't break Mary's heart."

"Yes I did," Matthew admitted easily. "They didn't know that," he followed, "but I did. And I knew that and Mary knew that and that was all that mattered. And even so, they still gave me a hard time. I mean, even I have to admit that Robert and you clicked far more quickly than he and I did."

Tom sputtered out a laugh. "You mean that one night at dinner?" He rolled his eyes heavenward in dismissal. "You were nervous."

"And you weren't?"

"Dr. Crawley didn't know I was in love with his daughter then."

Matthew rolled his eyes too. "Yeah, I heard about that. He told you to take it easy on her, yeah?"

"The man has his PhD and yet he was too daft to see something that was right in front of him. I mean, sometimes we were utter shit at hiding it."

"Yeah well you also have your PhD and last time I checked you've done some rather fucked up things in your lifetime too." Tom's demeanor changed so Matthew yielded, shifting with it. "Sybil never—"

"Told anyone?" Tom chuckled. "Yeah, I know."

"But hey! Leaving Robert and Cora out of it...Sybil's the baby so they're obviously going to be a bit more critical."

"I really think you're missing the point here."

"What? That you fucked up? Nah, I got it. But Robert and Cora will bite their tongues. This is just par for the course. I mean...you're here. You're at my wedding. If they really hated you you wouldn't be because Mary wouldn't want to upset the people who are paying for this."

"Fair point...so this is alright then?"

"Alright?" Matthew repeated. "That you're here?" Tom nodded. "Of course. Mary agonized over whether or not to invite you and I agreed that she should. Sybil means a lot to me—"

"Fuck, she's perfect, I know."

"She is," Matthew smirked in agreement as he sipped at his liquor. "But you don't get it...I had to do what you're doing. Because Mary's family didn't know but Sybil did. I had to prove myself to her just like you're doing now. Now it's like she's my little sister too...I guess I'm just saying that once upon a time I messed up too and now I'm marrying the girl of my dreams and both of our families are very, very happy about it."

"Cora wants to kill me," Tom admitted simply.

"Yeah, well she'll want to kill me too when she finds out Mary's pregnant…" Matthew took a deep gulp, his mouth essentially disappearing as he swallowed the last bit of scotch left in his lowball glass. He set the item down on the bar with a force that insinuated he was ready to start a fight but he merely walked to Mary, interrupting the conversation she was lost in with a kiss to her cheek. Matthew softened in her arms and Tom smiled as he saw Mary do the same.

At one point in their lives Tom and Matthew shared nothing other than an apartment. Today they both stood on more similar, stable ground with Matthew getting married and Tom wishing that yes, he'd be in a similar situation soon. He was only disappointed to find Sybil and he hadn't made it here first.

~!~

Sybil and Tom's walk back to their cottage earned them hesitant glares from Robert and Cora. Neither could deny the change in their daughter and yet they were cautious to watch it all happen, wondering how it would end this time while simultaneously admonishing themselves for not recognizing and allowing it sooner.

Sybil carried her shoes in one hand, and Tom's hand in the other. She couldn't help but to smile up at him, finding and somewhat fearing how effortless it was to give him the truth after just a few glasses of wine. They seemed to be right where they'd been the previous night though there was hope here as both acknowledged they wouldn't be separated any time soon.

"You want a ride?"

Sybil's eyes narrowed. "That's the Irish way of telling me you want to shag, right?"

Tom chuckled. "Not quite." He let go of her fingers and reached for her waist to pull her in close. With sleepy eyes she accepted the kiss he pressed to her temple.

"So you don't want to shag?"

"I didn't say that either," he admitted honestly. "I meant on my back. If your feet hurt—"

Tom's speech came to a halt as Sybil lunged at him, hopping up upon his back, causing him to lean forward as he accepted her weight. They'd done this often all those years ago - usually when it was dark out and the Cambridge streets offered them refuge from judgement, mostly because no one knew exactly who the two were. Just as they were now, they were no more than a very in love pair back then and both silently reminisced as they neared the cottage.

"If my parents—"

"They can't see us anymore...trust me."

"My father said something to me, you know. When you were at the bar with Matthew..." Tom tossed a glance over his shoulder as if to ask that Sybil continue. "He said I laugh a lot when you're around."

"Well that's because I'm hilarious," Tom quipped.

"I told him it was because I was happy."

"Oh?"

"And he asked if we were official...you know, if you were my boyfriend. And my mum had just joined us and I could tell they both were doing their best not to say anything about the risks we're taking…" Sybil's voice trailed off, hoping Tom's mind would follow so she didn't have to verbally recount the situation they'd left behind in London. "I told them that yes, you were my boyfriend but that's not why I was happy."

"No?"

"I told them I had my best friend back and I think just for a moment they understood."

Tom sighed. He found himself breathless at the sound of such a conclusion. They were at their door now and with Sybil still on his back, Tom pushed inside. Once the door was shut, she slinked off of him. Just as her feet touched the floor her dress fell back down and she tossed her shoes to the side. There was silence, a mere fraction of a beat, before the two were attached with hands cupping cheeks as their lips agreed to all they still had yet to say.

It was hungry and rushed but neither cared. Tom's hands cupped Sybil's cheeks as she raked her own fingers through his hair. It was the rolling of her body that pushed them toward the bedroom, with her shedding her cardigan and he shrugging out of his jacket on the way. There was an awkward fumble as Tom rid himself of most of his clothing, only to find Sybil struggling with the zipper on her dress.

He laughed and went to her, pressing soft kisses to her neck as his hands pulled down at the clasp and then explored the bare skin beneath.

"Don't laugh at me," Sybil tried, all with a giggle of her own.

"Why not?" he returned playfully. "You're a mess and it's sexy…" His lips were on hers once more and when her unsteady footing brought her crashing down onto the bed, Tom leaned in to follow her.

Lustfully their want had both inching up the length of the mattress. Sybil writhed beneath him and when Tom felt her hands caressing at his sides he stopped her and grabbed each wrist to hold each arm above her head, as if in surrender. She nipped at his lips but there was question in her eyes, all of it banished when Tom began to kiss a path down her chest. For the first time that night the energy slowed but when Tom returned to her, he seized her mouth in yet another passionate kiss, all as the two fumbled to connect. When they did Sybil detached, tossing her head back in ecstasy. But at once she was smiling, hiding the emotion in the crook of Tom's neck as the two began to move against one another.

Whimpers and moans mixed with the sound of crickets outside, but their lovemaking had both deaf to the ocean waves. The pair was lost to seriousness, adoring each other with their eyes as they clutched one another and rocked themselves to a somewhat shared orgasm. As Tom released he let go in another way, whispering honesty into Sybil's neck which was now dotted with perspiration that glistened beneath the moonlight.

Neither could steady their lungs, a task that was made all the more difficult when their intense feelings had them reconnecting once more. Even as Tom slipped out of Sybil and she sighed, hindering the kiss the two were lost in, it was all too easy to find each other again. They clutched onto one another in a mess of limbs. Sybil's hair was just now falling out of its clips and in an effort to catch his breath, Tom removed the rest of them and then raked his hands through her hair as she kissed his shoulder blade and dropped her head to his chest, listening to his heart beat. Her own breathing was far too ragged for her to hear any irregularities.

"What did you say?" Sybil asked, her voice raspy as she blinked and stared at the way her finger ran up and down the lines of his abdomen.

Tom looked to her. "When?"

"Before," she said quickly.

In the moment Tom knew she had heard him and was now asking him to repeat himself as if that was the permission she needed to meet him there — as if they hadn't been there all along. "I said—"

"I love you."

"What?"

"I love you, Tom. I'm in love with you." It came again: "I love you."

"Yeah," he nodded, dispelling a breathy laugh. "I love you too," he said, confirming his words from earlier.

"I've always loved you…" Sybil's voice shook as heat rushed to her eyes, pricking at each lash line with tears she was doing her best to hold back. "I don't want to talk about the past anymore. I don't want to try and make sense of any of this because it just does...make sense," she finished. "I can't explain it, I just...I love you," she tried feebly. Her voice was a melody of happy defeat, accompanying the way Tom leaned down and kissed her once more.

"I love you too." Then: "I always will."

* * *

Big thanks to those of you who have been reviewing. This story has gotten a lot of love lately and it means a lot to me :)

x. Elle


	27. Wildest Dreams

I AM SO SORRY IT HAS TAKEN ME THIS LONG TO POST! I've been traveling for work (more so than usual) and when I'm not traveling, I'm working crazy hours in general. But anyway! I'm back and hopefully it won't take me as long to post the next chapter. Fingers crossed!

Enjoy! xx

* * *

 _Her gown was cranberry not blue and a moon hung high above, dressing the night in darkness. She stood beneath a white tent where a makeshift wooden floor acted as a barrier between her bare feet and the cold earth below. It was nearly summer but the sun was long gone and lights remained and music played but she heard little and saw even less. She felt it though, the way the loneliness chilled her bones. But all at once her heart jumped at seeing him standing before her._

 _She beamed and he smiled back. When she opened her mouth to speak, she delivered only silence. She was lost to wonderment once more and concentrating on the way she moved to step into him. But he did not move - at least not yet. She was sure he'd ask her to dance but he didn't speak either._

 _"Tom?"_

 _He could only blink. "You're pretty, Sybil Crawley."_

 _His words echoed and her throat went dry. He spoke in the present tense but everything about him felt stuck in the past. She'd heard him say that very thing so many times before but somehow this was different; somehow this sounded like goodbye._

 _"Tom?" It came again._

 _Her speech was weaker now as concern coated her vocal chords. This time when she took a step toward him he took a step back. It seemed he was committed to the distance between them and Sybil now wondered what would happen if she challenged the boundary. Bravely she thought of touching him, but as her hands reached out, the vision of him flickered. Then as her hand fell, the backdrop behind him flashed; they were no longer at the gala but in Ireland. He wore a lazy smile. So handsome, Sybil thought. Even in the haze she couldn't help but to adore him._

 _"Tom?"_

 _This time he said nothing. The silence shook Sybil to her core. In an attempted test she took a step back but in finding she disliked the space between them she practically jumped at him, her fingertips grasping at the nothingness contained in the moment. Her lungs contracted, tight then soft again. She blinked and he was gone._

 _"Tom!"_

 _It was not a question. No one was there to hear her. She was alone again. He had left her and in his wake the party resumed, everyone else coming into focus as if they'd never disappeared in the first place._

This was not the dream she imagined she'd have on the night before her sister's wedding. In fact, this didn't seem to be a dream at all; nothing about this was ideal and she woke with that reality pressing down heavy on her chest, thrusting her back into consciousness.

She did not gasp for air. In fact, all of her body was still and now slightly confused as she found herself sleeping on her back with hands that rested gently by her side. Her usual configuration found her facing Tom but with eyes now open she saw that the space beside her was empty. As she sat up she saw him standing in the nearby bathroom brushing his teeth. She smiled and he laughed, only coming to her when his toothbrush was nestled back in its cup.

"You okay?" he asked. His eyes looked her up and down now, especially as she moved her fingertips to her head to thread back at her curls.

"Mhm," she nodded with enthusiasm.

"I tried to wake you up," he explained. "Wanted to see if you wanted to take a shower with me…" Without warning Tom dropped his towel and walked to his suitcase to retrieve a pair of briefs. He slowly stepped into them and arched his back in an effort to get them to sit more comfortably on his hips.

Sybil bit her lip. "And?"

"You weren't budging. I don't remember you being such a heavy sleeper but you looked so content that I didn't want to wake you."

"Didn't want to wake me or couldn't? Maybe you didn't try hard enough…"

Tom smirked and let out a chuckle of his own. "Actually I didn't have much of a choice. I heard the front door—"

Sybil's eyes widened. "What?"

"Mary came to bring us breakfast."

Sybil was halfway out of bed now, leaning across the sheets to grab for Tom's discarded undershirt. "In here?"

"Well not in _here_ ," Tom eye-rolled. "It's out in the kitchen." Before Sybil could move to him, he continued. "I'd wager she didn't deliver to everyone. Sibling privilege, I suppose."

"She's freaking out," Sybil gave simply as she walked to him. Like Tom she stepped into a pair of underwear and then frantically began to look around her room, seeking out the same cellphone she'd checked only moments earlier.

"You think?"

"I know," Sybil insisted. "She always does this when she feels like she's losing control. I should go see her…"

Tom sighed. "Yeah, whatever you want."

Sybil's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'm sorry."

He grabbed her hip and brought her to him. With her close, even she was surprised to find his lips at a distance. "S'fine. Go help her. I'm glad she appreciates you."

Sybil smirked. In appreciation she pecked at Tom's lips and pulled away with closed eyes that told of her reluctance. "It's something like that," she agreed humbly. "I don't think she ever thought this day would happen. Very rarely does a crush turn into something more. Matthew makes Mary vulnerable and she's not too fond of the exposure. It's likely she'll cry today...that's how I know she's absolutely smitten. I can trust Matthew to take care of her. I'm passing the torch."

Tom stood back. He appreciated Sybil too and was far too enamored by her, even in this hectic state, to do much else. "He thinks highly of you too, you know."

"I know. I told you he has become one of my closest friends."

"I can't promise Mary and I will be mates…"

"I don't expect that," Sybil confirmed with a giggle. "But you're here and I genuinely think she wanted that. I've championed for her happiness and she's done the same for me. She's just returning the favor. They both are."

The moment felt heavy and when Sybil found herself wanting a remedy they did not have time for she stepped away from Tom and turned back to the bed to grab for her cellphone. The screen was still blank but it kept her from reminding him of the previous night's truths and how they came so easily in the dark. "Mind if I step out for a bit?"

"Do I have a say?"

"Yeah, I mean—"

"Go. Please."

"I don't know when I'll be back," Sybil warned, almost as if she were asking Tom to insist she stay.

He laughed. "I'm hardly a child. I think I'll manage."

"You don't do well on your own," Sybil reminded. "Someone from my family always swoops in and rips you apart."

"I think I've successfully taken on all the important ones. Your grandmother liked me," Tom pointed out.

Sybil's phone buzzed, essentially relieving her of the task of confirming Tom's point and only inflating his ego. Even so he seemed happy and she was happy too, far happier than she'd been lately. Neither could deny that there was something so magically simple about sharing a bed.

"Oooh!" Sybil let out. "Gwen and Will are here!"

" _Here_?"

Sybil rolled her eyes in dismissal of Tom's teasing. "Headed this way. Put a shirt on."

Tom looked to her. "Put some pants on." As Sybil obliged Tom felt himself regretting his words. "So what do you do today?"

"Hair...makeup..."

"It takes all day?"

Sybil shrugged. "Kind of. It's like a bonding ceremony."

"Do Gwen and Will participate in that too?"

"Of course not. That's why they're coming here. You three can hang out."

"What?" Tom scoffed.

"You haven't succeeded until you've won over those two."

"They like me."

Sybil stepped in to Tom and latched her fingers behind his neck. "They don't have a choice. I haven't given them any other option. But you need to show them I'm not a liar."

"Thank you?" Neither could deny the gravity between them and the way their bodies swayed as they shared another kiss, one that attempted to push them back toward the bed.

"I'm going to hop in the shower and then head out of here." Sybil finally said. "Behave, will you?"

Though there was bravery in her resistance, Tom couldn't help but to rebel and subsequently force her to join him. He pulled Sybil in and kissed her so hard she was practically breathless. Her hands fell from his shoulders and floated in the air without direction as she felt the oxygen around her draining, so much so that she felt lightheaded. Unsteady, Sybil could only blink up at him as she returned to reality. Tom laughed and swatted at her rear, causing her to scamper off toward the bathroom.

"Behave!" she reminded, now from her position behind the door. Tom couldn't help but to think it was an instruction for their time together that night and not advice on the impending conversation he'd share with Gwen and Will.

With Sybil lost in steam, Tom followed her instructions and tossed a shirt over his head. Somehow he felt sleepy now and he brought his drowsiness with him out into the kitchen. There Gwen and William stood as if waiting for him. Both smiled, though the smirks they wore were wholly different in nature.

"There he is…" William teased.

Tom chuckled. "Did you miss me?"

"Ha!" he let out. "But rotations with Ben have been slightly unbearable. I miss Sybil," he admitted honestly and without mirth. "Where is she?"

"Shower," Tom explained as he walked further into the kitchen.

Sybil's best friends followed, with both taking a seat at the island while Tom moved to the stove.

"Ooooh," Gwen teased, "what are we having?"

"Here," Tom offered up, pushing a box of scones their way. "Mary brought these."

"You're not cooking me breakfast?"

"I'm not cooking anyone breakfast," Tom laughed. "I'm making tea. That's about all they stocked this place with."

"Essential."

"They're serving brunch in a bit. I'd assume you lot were invited."

Gwen had already reached into the box and began to chew at a scone. She lacked a plate, causing the crumbs to fall down to the counter below. "S'a bit different from the last time we had breakfast…"

"Are you ready to do your walk of shame home again?" William inquired.

Tom smirked. "I'll have you know that there was absolutely no shame in that journey. But no need...this is my cottage too."

"You lucky fuckin' bugger."

"I am," he confirmed simply. The kettle sang now and Tom was thankful for the interruption; he was still waiting for the world to give him permission to love Sybil out loud.

"So what is this?" Gwen asked simply, avoiding eye contact with both men.

"What is what?" Tom tried.

"You two playing house," she explained, now with a nod toward the bedroom.

"We're sharing a room, Gwen." The art of downplaying emotions had become so familiar to Tom it seemed he defaulted to it now. Often in sharing how he felt, he felt he was accusing Sybil of having similar feelings and he didn't find it particularly fair to strip her bare like that.

"Listen…"

"Conversations never end well when they start like this," Tom admitted.

"Stop whining, would ye? Humor me and listen to what I have to say."

Tom looked away — a masculine eye-roll if ever there was one. "Out with it."

"William and I are on your side here."

Tom waited for an elaboration. When none came, he leaned in. "Okay, and?"

"No, that's it," she smiled. "We're on your side...no one else will be so we are. We're doing it for Sybil but we're also doing it because William didn't know you then and he's giving me a bit of perspective in the here and now. He also thinks you're fit, so…"

"Gwen!" William let out with a slap to his friend's shoulder. "That's—"

"I have British appeal and American appeal?" Tom chuckled. "Flattering."

Will rolled his lips outward to show how unamused he was. "Your sarcasm is a bit unbearable though," he said in an attempt to bring Tom back down to earth.

Tom laughed again. "What about Mary?"

"Mary is and will always be on Sybil's side. Family is number one for that girl. She'll never see this invitation as a show of her alliance."

"Though," William interrupted, "Gwen tells me it doesn't matter but I think Matthew is on your side."

Tom paused. "I'm having such nostalgia right now."

"So anyway. We're here and we're going to say lovely things about you and do what we can to help you and Sybil make this work. But we do it with the understanding that you are not to hurt her ever again."

"Obviously."

Gwen's eyes pierced into Tom with a silence that demanded he listen. "I honestly thought you two would get married back then, so that is not at all obvious to me."

"Have...has she…" Gwen and Will perked their eyebrows in interest. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter."

"Tom?"

"I mean...I just...if we're being honest then—"

"Then?"

"I don't know if these are things I should be sharing," Tom attempted to explain.

"With us or with her?"

"With you," he assured. "I mean...her and I have discussed these things, we just—"

"Oh?"

"Not recently. Back then. Because yes, I did want to marry Sybil. And I know that sounds insane and—"

"What would you have done?" Gwen asked honestly. Her vision narrowed while she calmly waited for his response. "If you didn't break up and Sybil went to school. Would you have waited all these years to propose? That's what you're insinuating, right?"

"I'm insinuating that she meant a lot to me then and she still means a lot to me now. I want what I wanted then."

"Now?"

Tom shrugged as if to ask that the interview cease. "Whenever she wants, I guess."

"You guess?" Will blinked.

"I'm in…" His voice trailed off. "Sybil knows how I feel about her and now I know she feels the same...I just, I, uh...she's the best and I want to spend the rest of my life with her...but christ this is intimidating."

Gwen let out a lighthearted scoff in dismissal. "You give lectures in front of hundreds of kids."

"I'm not in love with their best friends," Tom returned effortlessly as if the retort was an obvious one.

Will nodded. "Fair."

"Oh! And please don't knock her up. She needs to finish school first."

"And you need to be married," William added. "Robert and Cora would be absolutely horrified if they ever had a grandchild born out of wedlock."

Tom smirked. "Well, of course."

He sipped at his tea in acceptance, all the while wondering if Gwen knew about Mary's pregnancy. Quickly he agreed she didn't and that scared him a bit, reminding him of a time when Sybil told him far more than she told her supposed best friend. Tom wasn't here to replace Gwen and that was certainly never his intention all those years ago but he still didn't mind the room Sybil was making for him in her life. She sometimes did it so easily, Tom couldn't help but to think the space had been on reserve all along. It was likely what she had said the previous night was all too true: she always wished that night at the Gala would not be their last and somehow her hope had made such a thing possible.

~!~

By the time Sybil got out of the shower, Tom was sitting out on the deck with Gwen and William. All three sipped at cups of tea, making Sybil somewhat jealous when she realized she'd have no part in their conversation. Just as she approached them her phone made another cacophonous beep, urging her to press a strong kiss to Tom's cheek before heading out the front door.

It was a mixture of stress and aversion to the cold sea air that pushed her closer to Mary's cottage. The home was the largest on the property and would be the same cottage the couple would spend the weekend in after they were finally married. As soon as Sybil entered she saw her mother and cousin Rose, both women in more formal positions as they too drank at their morning tea. They looked so defeated they couldn't even display the hope they felt at seeing Sybil enter. Even so, they remained silent, adding to the way everything on this island was oddly relaxed. Mary was the bold exception: a thin, pale girl now pacing in a back room. Behind her, the Scottish sea hugged the shore.

"Mary?"

The eldest Crawley girl turned to her sister and forced a smile. Her hair was up in rollers and the satin robe she wore was cinched tightly at her waist. "Oh, thank god!"

Sybil chuckled. "You okay? Tom said—"

"The flowers never arrived last night. Apparently there was an issue with the boat the florist was going to take over. So Granmama offered her plane but they couldn't agree to that because of the liability and some of those flowers were meant to be at brunch this morning but clearly that's not going to happen—"

"Mary—"

"What?" she screeched, as if to ask that Sybil recognize the severity of her concerns. "What if I don't have flowers? What is a wedding without flowers?"

"But you have wedding planners."

"Yes, and?"

"Why aren't they taking care of this? Why don't they fly back and get the flowers? It's what...not even an hour?"

Mary's eyes widened and she reached forward for her sister, gripping her shoulders in intense excitement. "Wait! Yes! That's brilliant! You're brilliant!" She pulled Sybil in for a hug. "Thank you!"

Somehow Mary found it easy to move on, deserting her anxiety to call one of her wedding planners and give them these new instructions. Lost in directions she was now claiming as her own, Mary followed Sybil into the kitchen, smiling as her baby sister pushed a cup of tea her way. Mary hung up the phone and reached for the drink, sipping at it without hesitation.

Sybil did the same, and when she placed the cup back down she smirked. "I'm glad that's taken care of because my next option was to have us steal flowers from the grounds. Just know, if this doesn't work out I'm not above that."

"I know," Mary agreed, breathing out a laugh. "You've been arrested before, remember?"

"I wasn't arrested," Sybil sighed. "We were...reprimanded. That wanker said awful things and Tom stood up for you."

Mary raised an eyebrow. "Oh did he?"

"I told you that…"

Mary rolled her lips inward. "No, darling, you didn't…"

"Well I'm telling you now," Sybil gave with arms that were raised in the air as if to simultaneously ask forgiveness and accept defeat. "I just...thank you for finally paying him back."

"Mhm," Mary mumbled into the rim of her cup. "How's the cottage then?"

"It's good…"

"Just good?"

Sybil rolled her eyes. "We really don't have to do this…it's...it's good, Mary. I told you, it's...things are really great right now. But why are we talking about me?"

"Because I'm a nervous bugger and it's calming me down," Mary returned without shame.

"We took care of the flowers."

"I'm not worried about the flowers anymore," she whispered.

The change in tone had Sybil taking a step into Mary, creating more distance between them and the rest of the world, the latter currently symbolized by Cora and Rose who had since turned the television on to drown out the silence.

"Matthew said something last night," Mary began. "I think I've put so much emphasis on this wedding and the planning that he feels like this part is more important than what it represents. Also, I am most definitely showing and everyone will know and they'll be thinking about that instead of how lovely everything is and basically it's all a giant mess."

"None of this is a mess, Mary. And I'm sure Matthew doesn't think that. If he does, he knows it's not true—"

"I have wanted to marry this man since I was eighteen years old, Sybil. I'm praying he doesn't feel that way...I mean, I want the party to be as magical as our relationship and I think it will be. It's like inviting our friends and family to experience what we have for the past decade."

"Have you told him that?"

"No!" Mary squawked. "I haven't seen him all morning!"

"He didn't sleep here last night?"

"God, no!" Mary spat, all with a hand to her chest to show her offense. "That's bad luck."

"So is getting knocked up before your wedding, but here we are…"

Mary's vision hiccuped as she inhaled sharply. "Is it really?"

Sybil giggled. "Well it's frowned upon!"

"Sybil!" Mary whined. "Bollocks! You have to help me!"

"Alright!" Sybil yelled back, clearly making fun of her sister. "What do you want?"

"I want you to go see him."

"Him?"

"Matthew. I need to know he's not going to be regretting all of this as I walk down the aisle."

"Mary, really?" Sybil rolled her eyes. "You have baby brain. You're losing it."

"Maybe! But will you please? He loves you and maybe you can remind him that I'm not a terrible person."

"He loves you too, Mary. And you're not a terrible person, you're a _crazy_ person," she corrected.

"So you'll go?"

Sybil laughed. "Sure Mary, I'll go."

"Wonderful," Mary chirped. With a steady inhale she had regained composure and with Sybil existing in a state that greatly contrasted her own, she set down her mug and walked away without apology. Sybil could only shake her head and laugh, accepting the cup as a gift that essentially distracted her from the vibrating phone in her pocket. It had gone off three times now and when she was finally able to dry her hands, Sybil immediately grabbed for the device.

She beamed at the screen while she read Tom's texts. "I'm boreddddd," he complained. The next text came only moments later. "Are you coming to this brunch thing?" Then: "It feels odd without you here."

Sybil smirked, her thumbs tapping at her screen in hasty response. "No, I'm not coming. Didn't we discuss this?"

"We did," Tom answered almost immediately. "I was hoping something had changed in the interim."

"No changes."

"I forgot this morning," Tom began again, this time leaving Sybil patiently waiting for his next text. "I love you."

Slowly Sybil's eyes closed, as if savoring the sound of such a statement even when he was far away and she existed in the silence created by his absence. "I love you too." She soon sent another message: "Thank you for saying it first. This still isn't easy for me."

"Loving me?"

"No, admitting I love you. Out loud." She paused. "Loving you is the easy part, Tom. I told you that."

"Why do I feel like there's a _but_ coming?"

"There's not. Promise," Sybil sent with a smile. "And I know what you mean, by the way."

"Oh?"

"It feels odd without you here too."

It was Tom's turn to smirk. "Was that also hard to admit?"

"You have no idea…" Sybil giggled.

It was in this mood that Cora caught her daughter, also catching her off guard when she appeared in the doorway, walking to set down her own dirty mug. It contrasted greatly with the ones Sybil had just cleaned that were now resting on a towel next to the basin.

"Something funny?"

Sybil turned toward her mother. "Oh, uh…"

Cora grinned. "How was your night?"

Sybil sighed. "It was...it was great, Mum."

"You seemed to have a lovely time at the rehearsal dinner. It was nice to see you relax."

"I…" Sybil scoffed out a laugh, as if to ask herself for clarification. "I relax, Mum."

"Barely, Sybil. And if you believe that is the case then I'd ask you to consider that you're certainly more relaxed now."

"Tom…"

Cora waited for a continuation and when none came, she leaned back, as if to give the truth more room to exist. "Yes?"

"I know you spoke with him."

"I did," she nodded simply. Her arms were now crossed over her chest.

"I'm not a child, Mum. I wasn't then and I'm certainly not now. We...we discussed this, right? If you have an opinion or a concern or really anything to say, I'd appreciate if you voiced those things to me."

"Is Tom not responsible?"

"No, he's not," Sybil gave sternly. "But if you insist on making that the case then you could at least speak with both of us. He doesn't need to be cornered. I'll remind you he's not a child either."

"I was reminded of that, Sybil. Several times. Tom had no problem giving me his opinions."

"Wonderful! Truly!"

"He thinks highly of you."

Sybil rolled her eyes heavenward and let out a chuckle. "Is he my superior now? I mean...of course he does, Mum. He always has. He's...he's just incredibly respectful and he always has been and it was hard for him to stick up to you but you two are equals now."

Cora dropped her head back to laugh. "Are we now?"

"You are," Sybil insisted. "You're both in my life and you both mean a lot to me—"

"Sybil, I'm your mother, darling."

"And he's my boyfriend, Mum!"

Cora paused. "Is he then?"

"Of course he is! I mean, isn't that comforting? Mary wouldn't have invited him if we were anything but. And I wouldn't be so insistent on him meeting everyone if that weren't the case. He's my boyfriend and—"

"And you'd like to have a day like this someday?"

Sybil's breath hitched in her throat and as she swallowed it down, she nodded. "I would."

"Well he's also your patient, Sybil."

"That doesn't change the way I feel about him, Mum. He was my boyfriend first and now he's my boyfriend again and if it were up to me, there wouldn't have been this gap but I know now that if there weren't, it's likely we wouldn't be here."

"Here?"

"Oh, enough! I love you but I won't do this again. I won't convince you to validate my feelings. I have nothing to ask permission for. I...I am relaxed," she admitted with an exhale. "I can be myself around Tom and he listens to me and—"

"Your father keeps talking about how much you're smiling now."

"Yeah, Mum! I am! Because I'm happy!"

Cora nodded. "I know you are, Sybil."

"I was happy then too."

This time her gesture of acknowledgement came with a small amount of hesitation. "I know that as well."

"I don't know if there will be a wedding or really what's going to happen when we get back to London and Tom has to have his surgery but what I do know is how I feel about Tom and how now that I've admitted that to myself, I can't stop. He's...he's not going anywhere," Sybil stated with a sigh. Her shoulders dropped showing her contentment at being free of the weight in her admission.

"That's fine, Sybil."

"Good!" she said, still slightly out of breath.

"Tom's not the only one who loves you, Sybil, and—"

"Mum, please…"

"Let me finish, please." Sybil shifted her weight from one hip to the other. "Your father and I love you more than you can ever understand and maybe you'll have children someday and you'll know what I mean. But we're happy that you're happy."

Sybil looked away. "Thanks, Mum."

"I like Tom, Sybil. I think I always have. He's everything I should want for you and now I can finally admit that I do."

"G...good," Sybil managed.

There were several more beats of silence; time for both Sybil and Cora to catch their breath as they recovered from the acknowledgement that they now stood on the same side. "So you think this is it then? Tom's your forever person?"

It was a bold question but Sybil's answer was somehow even bolder. "He's always been my forever person, Mum."

~!~

This wasn't how Sybil had planned to spend her morning. In fact, if Mary hadn't come to her cottage so early, Sybil imagined she would still be in bed. Then again, she felt guilty for having such a selfish thought. Though she did want all of this someday, today was not about her and it certainly wasn't about Tom. Even so, it didn't keep her from missing the warmth hidden beneath their bed sheets, especially as the warm Spring air struggled to settle into the day.

When she neared Matthew's cottage she was amused to find how meager his arrangements had been. Upon entering she remembered why — these rooms were meant to house Matthew's best friends, the same boys he roomed with back at Cambridge. Those boys were men now and they sat on the couch in the parlor, just as Sybil's mother and cousin had. They looked to her and forced hopeful smiles, and Sybil, in her all too kind nature smiled back. Many years ago, Sybil learned that the reason Matthew's flatmates hated Tom so much, aside from their overall inability to connect with and understand him, was their affinity for her. Now she felt sorry for them, the feeling increasing when she remembered she had come to this wedding with a date, the same man they despised and would have to watch Sybil dance with while they sat at their tables alone.

"Hi boys…" Sybil attempted. Her eyes darted about while her body reacclimated to the more pleasant temperature of the cottage.

"He's in the…" But John's voice trailed off as he watched Sybil head toward the room he was ready to identify.

Sybil did not hesitate. Just as soon as she was outside the bathroom door she was inviting herself in, making no apology as she shut the door behind her and stared at her soon to be brother in law.

"Yes?" he asked, as if to display his ignorance to Sybil's intentions.

"I don't know how to say this so I'm just going to and if it comes out wrong then I apologize but—"

"Mary's freaking out?" Matthew asked, cutting her off. "Yeah, I know."

Sybil blinked. "You do?"

"She's not responding to my texts. I barely got any sleep last night because I was so worried about her and I almost went over there but I knew that would have upset her even more...if she wasn't upset already…"

"I'm going to assume she thinks that's bad luck. That's the modern day version of seeing the bride in her dress before the wedding."

"If we're being honest, I'd think the fact that she's knocked up is the ultimate bad luck, but—"

Sybil snickered. "I said the same thing."

"I'm sure she enjoyed that. Is...is that why she's freaking out?"

"The baby?" Sybil leaned into Matthew to clarify. "No...well, yes. I mean...the pregnancy has certainly made her barmy and that's an understatement if ever there was one...but she's worried you think she cares more about this wedding than she cares about you, the man she's marrying."

"I don't think that," Matthew revealed simply.

"But she said you made a comment and—"

"Yeah, I did because I was a bit tossed and slightly irritated that she wouldn't let me spend the night. But I've been trying to text her since then and she's not responding."

Sybil rolled her eyes. "Alright so basically you're both nuts."

"I mean…"

"This wedding does mean a lot to her, Matthew but it's because Mary never thought in a million years that this would ever happen. Which, mind you, is offensive because she is perfect and way out of your league."

Matthew squinted. "Thank you?"

"Well she is!" Sybil tossed innocently.

"Well maybe you should tell her that I'm a bit in awe too!"

" _Maybe_ ," Sybil sassed, "you both should have discussed these things before now."

"We have! Many times! But she's been so insecure lately and I don't understand because—"

"Because it's you, Matthew! She has always felt that way about you. That confidence she used to have was a complete mask for how nervous you used to make her."

"Then that makes two of us, yeah? But you'd think that would be gone by now. I mean...she's the mother of my child and she's about to be my wife. She's...she's my best friend. Nothing to be insecure about anymore."

"She's showing, Matthew," Sybil sighed. "I...I don't think she is, personally, but—"

"She is," Matthew stated. When Sybil glared at him, he chuckled. "Well she is! But only I or her would notice." He paused and exhaled before continuing. All of him softened. "Listen, she's going to look stunning because she always does and I'm probably going to cry. And you can tell her that if you'd like. Maybe that'll calm her nerves."

"I don't want to tell her that," Sybil dismissed. "The shock will make her cry and then you'll both be crying."

"And what about you?"

Sybil stopped laughing to look up. "What do you mean?"

"Are you glad Tom's here?"

Sybil began to grin, but her emotions came slowly as she calculated what percentage of Matthew's curiosity was genuine and which percentage was an effort by him to move on to a more amenable topic. "I mean, of course, but...we're not getting married anytime soon if that's what you're getting at."

Matthew's eyes widened. "Do you care about my opinion?"

"That's a stupid question, Matthew. Of course I do."

"I just don't think there's any reason to fight it," he revealed. "Your mother and father have already accepted it. We're all waiting for it. I just think it's better that it's happening now instead of back then. You needed your time and he deserved to struggle a bit to realize what he lost."

Sybil giggled. "You think?"

Matthew paused. "Of course I do. I mean...I did."

* * *

Thanks for reading!

x. Elle


	28. A Million Times

_It was a lazy Sunday, one of many where Tom and Sybil decided to spend all afternoon in bed. Nearby unfinished homework remained in Sybil's rucksack and on Tom's nightstand his cellphone sat silent and ignored as it advanced toward a dead state. After having spent the morning together the pair was lost in one another with naked limbs intertwined beneath soft bed sheets. They'd just woken up from a nap and both had yet to speak. Tom looked down at Sybil and she stared back, both smiling until finally Sybil began to laugh, adding pressure to the way her head rested on one of his pillows._

" _What's that face, Tom Branson?"_

 _Tom smirked. "Do you want to get married?"_

 _Sybil's eyes gave him a questioning glare. "Eventually? Or is this a proposal?"_

 _His grin only grew. "If I say it's a proposal would you say yes?"_

" _No!" Sybil managed, her voice high in pitch. She moved to cover her face with her hands, laughter coming more easily with her eyes shielded. "We can't…"_

" _Why not?"_

 _Sybil dropped her hands. "I'm...I'm seventeen, Tom!"_

" _So? What if you were older?" he tossed back effortlessly, almost in challenge._

 _Sybil pursed her lips. "I'd do a lot of things if I were older…"_

 _He raised his brows. "Am I included in these things?"_

 _Sybil giggled. "You're included in all of these things."_

" _Yeah? Like?"_

" _You're going to laugh…"_

" _Probably," he returned confidently, earning him an eye-roll._

" _That's comforting."_

" _I just proposed to you, Sybil. I doubt what you're going to say will to scare me."_

" _So that was a proposal?"_

 _Tom shrugged. "Depends on these supposed plans." His impatience found him playing with her hair, acting as if he wasn't incredibly interested in all she was about to say._

 _Sybil gave pause with a sigh. "I just think sometimes...you know, if maybe I was at least in uni and you had a teaching job somewhere...I think about being really stressed out but also really, really happy."_

" _And?"_

" _I'm curious to see how you'd propose," she conceded._

" _Naked in bed. Didn't I just make that obvious?"_

 _Sybil giggled. "You're incorrigible!"_

 _As her laughter died down, Tom continued. "What else happens in these plans?"_

" _You take me back to Ireland. We get married."_

" _In Ireland?"_

" _Wherever. I just miss it. It was a nice break from all of this…" Her voice trailed off — a silent nod to their current situation in which the two lived in a city with people who would not ever validate their feelings toward one another._

" _What about babies?"_

" _So many babies," Sybil's voice rolled in jest._

 _Tom grinned. "Yeah?"_

" _I dunno," Sybil laughed again. "We can't have too many because we'd both be working a lot. How many do you want?"_

" _Oh I have a say?"_

" _Uh, yes, Tom. Obviously."_

" _Two?"_

 _Sybil nodded. "That's what I was thinking. I'd like more I just don't know if we could swing it."_

" _I'd give you more if that's what you wanted," Tom offered._

" _Trust me, love, I don't think that'd be the issue."_

 _Tom dropped his head back to laugh. Beneath the covers that concealed Sybil's naked chest, his hand gripped her hipbone, keeping her close. "Alright and where are we living?"_

" _I don't know," Sybil answered simply. "We can't stay in Cambridge...Dublin maybe?"_

" _Oxford?"_

 _Sybil's gaze narrowed. "Why Oxford?"_

" _It keeps you close to your family," Tom explained. His instant response told Sybil that she was not alone in making plans for the future — their future. "I assume Mary will have children by then. And I doubt your parents will enjoy having you too far away."_

" _And what about your family?"_

" _Maybe we could go to New York. Equal opportunity to upset everyone but I'd get you to myself."_

" _Lots of universities," Sybil agreed. "It wouldn't be weird if a professor was dating a student."_

" _But you wouldn't be my student," Tom pointed out._

" _No, but you'd like that wouldn't you?"_

" _No, that's frowned upon," Tom tried, causing Sybil to chuckle in disbelief._

" _So is what we're doing now, no?"_

 _Tom looked down to Sybil's chest. His hands danced across her her stomach in want. "I'm hardly frowning upon this…"_

" _You are seriously the worst! Stay focused!"_

 _Tom pressed his tongue to his cheek. "Are we taking all of this seriously then?"_

" _What? Is this you retracting your proposal? I still haven't given you my answer…"_

 _Tom laughed. "Yes you did. You said no."_

 _Sybil's vision turned hazy as her voice became soft. "But I also told you all of the plans I have. I said no for now. Someday? Yes," she breathed out. "A million times yes."_

Tom remembered that day; he remembered all of their days, most more vividly when he realized it was likely he'd never get them back. Then again he'd spent the night with Sybil and the two had done far more than just share a bed. He held her similarly, and felt the way she relaxed against him, not once questioning the way her breathing slowed with him so close.

These were the things he thought of, losing himself in moments he'd let slip away and now finding it was eerily easy to return to them. It was a distraction from his current situation, one that saw him sitting alone in a pew at the back of the marble chapel Mary and Matthew would soon wed in. He had walked over with Sybil , leaving her in a back room and then taking his seat while she got ready. Other family members filtered in, with Cora giving Tom a small nod as she walked to her seat.

Surrounded by chatter and feeling like an outsider, Tom wondered if his suit was too posh. He fit in, surely, but he also would have fit in up on the altar with Matthew and his friends. Each man had nodded his way and he did not hesitate when he gave a cordial smirk back. It was likely they were surprised to see him (especially with Sybil) or perhaps they were shocked to know they'd soon witness their best friend marry the girl of his dreams. As Tom pondered that fact, he was brought out of his reverie by a tap on the shoulder and the sound of excitement coming from the very same direction.

"Tom? Tom...Tom!"

He looked over, his face turning sour as if to show his annoyance. It was a dirty habit he'd always failed to overcome, one that Sybil used to criticize him for. There were few moments in his life when he could keep his emotions a secret. He'd once failed when Sybil was seventeen and he certainly lacked restraint almost a decade later.

"You okay?" Gwen tried again.

Instantly Tom craved a cigarette and as he thought of a proper response, he nodded, biding him time to wonder why. "Yeah...sorry…" His voice trailed off again.

Gwen and William sat in the pew behind him. Both best friends leaned forward, with Gwen even resting her arms on the back of Tom's row. "Can you do me a favor and not bring Sybil to the courthouse to get married?"

He chuckled. "Married?"

"Well that's what you want, isn't it?" William boldly entered the conversation clarifying for the purpose of banishing Tom's own confusion.

"I...well there's...why do you think she'd want to go to the courthouse?"

Gwen shook her head, essentially dismissing his question as nonsensical. "It's just a feeling I have…"

"Has she—"

"No," William said, quickly cutting him off.

Tom scoffed out a laugh. "Then?"

"I just want her to have a wedding," Gwen half-whined.

Tom looked around, his eyes bouncing between each marble column to the stained glass behind the altar and then back again. "Like this?"

"Maybe not like this," Gwen conceded. "But a party would be nice."

"Well I don't think I'll have much say in the matter."

There was a pronounced pause of pure silence. "If you asked her to go to the courthouse today she would. Without hesitation. In a heartbeat," she added in syncopation. "So yes, I'd say you do have a say."

Tom sighed out. "I follow her lead, Gwen. Whatever she wants."

In his own benefit the chords of the organ rang out allowing music to bring all guests to their seats. Gwen and William sat back and Tom exhaled, happy to be done with a moment he now desperately wanted to discuss with Sybil. This only intensified when his eyes caught upon hers as she nearly floated down the aisle. His glance procured a smile and she walked toward the altar looking as if she had a secret to keep and was delighted in the responsibility that came with that.

When she turned to stand and face the crowd she continued to grin. Then, like that morning in bed, she looked away, unable to sustain the way his eyes were adoring her. She wore a long navy-colored gown and her dark hair was pulled back off her face, highlighting the few light pieces the sun had stained long ago. As her gaze remained glued to the floor, Tom saw the silver headband she wore, the only item that differentiated her from the other bridesmaids. He suspected she was doing her best to hide just how giddy he sometimes made her, but when she looked back up again she let out a small series of giggles, unable to contain the overwhelming feelings she had whenever Tom was close. In seeing this Tom felt proud as she shared her feelings with the crowd. He couldn't even worry if the look was captured by each guest; he was selfishly enjoying it too much to wish it away.

It didn't get old but the music changed and everyone shifted to look to the back of the church. The doors opened, seemingly on their own, revealing Mary and a smiling Dr. Crawley. Mary's face was cloaked by a thin veil, the lace surely a family heirloom that she'd somehow made work with the rest of her modern ensemble. As the pair walked down the aisle, everyone's eyes followed until eventually they were at the altar. They watched as Mary's hands gripped her father's arms, accepting the kiss he placed to her rouged cheek after he softly flipped back her veil. There was something bittersweet in the way she turned back to Matthew but it melted to excitement, echoing Sybil's happiness from before.

Though he still stood on unsteady ground with both Matthew and Mary, even Tom couldn't dismiss the love that existed between the two. He wanted to stare at Sybil, and he did, but he didn't mind paying attention to the ceremony even if it was like so many he had attended in the past. When it was time for the pair to share their vows, his glare effortlessly moving back to Sybil and this time she didn't dare to look away.

"I, uh, I speak in front of a lot of people every day but doing this is making me so nervous because I don't think I've ever told this many people what you mean to me and I know I have to get it right." Everyone laughed, filling the silence left by the sharp inhale Matthew gave in an attempt to gain bravery. "So...a lot of people don't know this but when you and I first met I spent a lot of time pushing you away. I had lost my dad only a few years prior and I didn't realize it then but I guess that's why I didn't want to let you in. I really didn't want to let anyone in. I didn't want anyone getting close to me because I didn't think I could stand to lose anyone else. But you pushed and you pushed until I didn't really give you a choice and the minute you stepped back, all of my fears were confirmed." He paused and his focus turned hazy as everyone noticed the way Matthew seemed to want to cry. "I was absolutely not strong enough to lose anyone again and I certainly wasn't ready to lose you. You forgave me for things I still struggle to forgive myself for. You make me happy and you make me better. I like the man I am and I'm that person now because of who you are and who you've allowed me to be. I really think you saved my life, Mary," Matthew admitted honestly. "Or you definitely changed it. And everyday I thank God for you because I don't know where I'd be if you had ever given up on me. I don't know if I'd have the career I have because you have supported me even when I made that very, very difficult. You are absolutely all of the things people say you are: beautiful and driven and honest but I am so blessed that I get to see the other parts of you...how kind you are, your loyalty to your family and your courage when it comes to knowing what you want and never being afraid to take chances to get it. I guess I'm just thankful that once upon a time I was one of those things. Thank you for not giving up on me and thank you for giving me your heart. I truly love the woman you are and I couldn't be more excited to spend the rest of my life with you."

Mary squeezed Matthew's hands and he smiled, wanting to let go if only so he could reach forward and wipe at the tears pooling on her lashline. She nearly coughed out a laugh, still in shock that she was about to marry her best friend — that she was currently marrying her best friend.

With a shaky exhale, she began. "I had written something but I ended up leaving it behind...it wasn't a mistake," she quickly corrected. Then: "Because I don't make those…" The church was filled with more laughter, urging Mary to continue. "But I realized that if there was ever a time for me to be vulnerable it was now." Matthew nodded as if to show he understood. "I'm so happy we're here celebrating with everyone and I'm not scared to know how many people will understand just how much I love you. I just...sometimes I can be very calculated. I don't do well sharing my feelings like this but if there's ever been a person I can tell everything to, it's you Matthew. And we have been together for so long and I still don't know if I've done a great job telling you just how much you mean to me. And I hope in me saying this out loud you'll understand." She paused, the noiselessness pulling back at her shoulders. "You are my world and I wouldn't trade a single day we've spent together, even the ones I think we'd both rather forget. You make me feel beautiful and important and wanted. You listen to me the way no one else ever has...or ever could. You call me on my rubbish and I wouldn't have it any other way. I am stubborn and selfish but you make me slow down and show me what's important when my life feels like it's spinning out of control. I'm beyond lucky to have you in my life and I don't know who I should thank...God or you for finally letting me in. But you did and you haven't stopped and your vulnerabilities showed me it's okay to be weak. You highlight my flaws and make me feel like those are things I should celebrate. Your bad days are my bad days and your good days are my good days and I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm excited to make you my husband but I'm the most excited for you to be a father." Each guest was scared to breathe but when she carried on so casually, there was a slight gasp heard from the crowd. "This baby boy is going to be just as blessed as I am and I hope he has your hair and your compassion and hopefully your brain too. So I'm sorry this is how I'm telling everyone…" Mary turned to look toward the front row but her grip was strong as her fingers begged Matthew for temporary support. "Sorry Mum and Dad...Isobel…" she added before quickly turning back to Matthew. This was something she refused to feel bad for, especially now with Matthew's eyes lovingly boring into her. "But I was walking down this aisle realizing that for as long as I have loved you, it will never be enough. There will never be enough days for me to tell you and show you just how much I love you. Life's too short but I'm glad I'm spending it with you. There's no one else in this world I'd want by my side."

While Mary and Matthew gave their vows, Tom couldn't help but to realize how uniquely vulnerable Matthew made Mary. He wondered if everyone else felt this way or if he was alone in this feeling after years of constantly being so close and yet seeing only her uncracked exterior. He couldn't remove his eyes from Sybil and when he realized her smile was unapologetically unwavering, he resolved to hopefully never have to look away.

Sybil knew what he was thinking because she was thinking it too. She thought of her entire wedding, of all the things she had suppressed for so long. She didn't need the Scottish island or the cottages or the fancy church and the lavish gowns. But as a girl, as many often do, she had visions. She wanted her bridesmaids painted in mauve and pale blue and grey-lavender, only now that would have to be modified as she found a way to get William involved. She thought of Ireland and their families finding common ground. Then she thought of children, not only of the nephew she would have in just a few short months but babies of her own. She remembered being seventeen and planning her life in such a similar fashion. It was crazy then and somehow time had made it seem less so. The overall intensity of such a realization had Sybil looking to the floor again and she did not look back up until Mary and Matthew, now husband and wife, were nearly halfway down the aisle.

~!~

If people were staring neither Sybil nor Tom cared. Tom kept a steady palm to Sybil's lower back as they swayed back and forth on the dancefloor. The pair was so close, Tom found himself whispering things in Sybil's ear, only causing her to drop her head back as she laughed to show her satisfaction. Things like _You look beautiful_ and even _I love you_ sounded different with all of the live music in the background. It also helped that Sybil's family, even Mary and Matthew found themselves catching glimpses of the couple lost in raw happiness.

When the music slowed down it transitioned into something more steady and sweet. The couple did not hesitate to slow down with it, but the way Tom now held onto Sybil was different.

"I love you," he whispered again.

A content smile spread across Sybil's face. "I love you too."

Tom chuckled. "Remind me again why we've never danced together?"

This time Sybil did not laugh. Her throat went dry and in an attempt to bring herself back to reality she swallowed down the hiccup keeping her from speaking. She hoped Tom didn't notice but she couldn't keep herself from dropping her head to his shoulder, wishing to shield her eyes.

It was no longer her own wedding she was thinking of but instead the night many years ago that should had played out just like this one. It was a night she played over and over again in her head, both before and after its completion. She saw it now; her dress was also lace then and her hair was pulled back, though in a much tighter fashion. She wanted nothing more than to dance with Tom that night and she couldn't possibly have fathomed all of the plans he had to break her heart.

"Syb?" Tom tried in a concerned tone. "What is it, love?"

She looked up, reminding him of a sleepy student surprised they were called on. "What?"

"You're inside of your head."

"I am," she nodded, swallowing again.

Tom paused. The way in which his lungs contracted somehow pushed her away. "You…" He quickly blinked. "You can say it."

Sybil looked to him with doe eyes. "Say what?"

"What you're thinking," he noted, pushing at her with his shoulder. "I mean, I know anyway."

Sybil nearly laughed. "I don't think you do."

"Try me."

"I...I'm just really enjoying this right now."

"Right now? As opposed to before?" His voice was angry and Sybil disliked the way something meant to be directed inward was now cast upon her. She assumed if he wasn't still so caught up in all of this, Tom would be equally as disappointed in himself. "I know you're thinking of it, Sybil. I am too."

"Tom…" Sybil's voice begged softly.

"It's okay...really. I'm a shit and—"

Sybil stepped back. She didn't push him away because it seemed she didn't need to; Tom's words had already put distance between them. Because of this her hands fell from around his neck rather easily. "Tom, please!" she pleaded. There were tears in her eyes and tension grinding at her teeth.

"Sybil, I'm sorry, I just…"

"I...I have to go. I can't do this here."

There was a stillness in the moment before Sybil grabbed at the lace of her gown and turned to walk away. She moved so quickly neither his hands nor his words could demand she remain. He was speechless and with her gone he was suddenly able to hate himself in the way he'd wanted to earlier and somehow that feeling was a comforting one, especially with Sybil so far away.

His shoulders slumped in defeat and he looked around as if to ask a disapproving crowd for support. Only a few people had noticed Sybil's swift exit and the clear emptiness she'd left in her wake. But Mary's glare was the most apparent, her eyes whispering at Tom: _fix this_.

* * *

I know, I KNOW it has been forever since I have updated. I am **so sorry** for that and if I get only a handful of reviews on this I'll honestly be shocked. But thank you to those of you who have been patient and stuck with this story. It means so much to me and I'm thankful for each of you...all four of you.

 _x. Elle_


	29. Trying

**A/N** **:** Posted but not edited...sorry. You're all beautiful humans and I'm still so so thankful that you have stuck with this story, especially when it has taken me far longer than usual to get each chapter up. I promise I haven't lost inspiration, I'm just extremely busy (and tired!). So here it is. Enjoy and please please PLEASE leave me a review and let me know what you think!

* * *

When Tom found Sybil she was out on the grounds, existing in a darkness the lights of the white canopy tent could not touch. Matthew had requested a table for cigars, where several of his Cambridge friends gathered sharing stories. Like they were then, or rather like as Tom was then, he went fairly unnoticed. He was glad this was the case. He needed all the time in the world with her. He'd give her that time and then some if it meant healing whatever nerve he had hit.

He leaned in, his hands in his pockets while he toed the imaginary line between them. "Syb?"

At the sound of her name she dropped down to the iron bench below. The night had yet to freeze the metal and the slight scent of summer still hung in the air. "You didn't have to follow me," she dismissed, almost in jest. It seemed she was angry with her own words and the way they now made her nose run, causing her to sniffle.

Tom took another step in — still confused and therefore still careful. "Uh, I did though? I mean...I do," he settled, thinking the statement was an obvious one. "Of course I do. I wanted to but you're my girlfriend and I don't like that you're sad…" His voice trailed off as she finally looked to him, her eyes wide and wet while the rest of her was completely sad. Again Tom was slow in his movements, his voice echoing the same tone. "That is...you're sad right?"

Sybil breathed out a laugh. She wished she had tissue as she now wiped at her nose, surely removing some of the makeup that still covered her skin. "

Tom continued in the silence she had granted him. "I genuinely thought you were thinking about the Gala and I was too and I just didn't want you to think you couldn't talk about it," he explained, hoping to coax more than a laugh or eyeroll.

"I need you to stop hating yourself, Tom." Her words were ironically calm, and she delivered them down to the earth below. Her hands now fidgeted in her lap while she remained on the edge of the bench, not yet fully committed to their location.

Tom nodded. With even more hesitation he shifted so he was sitting beside her. All of his weariness was temporarily banished when Sybil sat back, essentially inviting him closer. He sighed out. "I need you to let me talk about it. I can't just act like it didn't happen. I mean, I fucked up my life for many years. I was miserable, Sybil, you know this...I changed and hated who I was and didn't care to fix it."

In all of her emotion, some of it the same sadness Tom had diagnosed, Sybil remained still. He was here now. This time she walked away and when she pushed, he was brave enough to follow. Somehow the Gala was one of the last things on her mind.

"Tom, I need you to act like it didn't happen. We're here now, right? That's what matters to me."

"But Syb–"

She leaned back, anger motivating her movement to join her sorrow. "Let me decide what you deserve, alright?"

Tom looked away then back again. "Like I thought I had done with you?"

"No!" she hushed. "Because you deserve me, Tom! You deserve this and the way I feel about you. And I know you know that deep down because you know I wouldn't waste my time on just anyone. And I haven't," she confirmed with quiet resolve. "I never did. It was always you and I want it to be always you."

"Alright," he nodded. His voice told of how terrified he was, still afraid he'd do or say something that would set her off again. "Me too. I'm trying…"

Sybil nodded too. "You're everything to me, Tom. Everything."

"Yeah...yeah, me too, love."

"I...I have to tell you something." The tears came again.

It took everything in Tom, all of his mustered restraint, not to grab for her and pull her in. He swallowed. "Oh god. Are you pregnant too?"

"No," Sybil laughed, somehow pushing more sadness down her cheeks. "I wish that was the case."

Tom looked to her, his eyes wanting to demand an answer but finding themselves too concerned to do much more than take her in. "Okay, now you're really worrying me."

"Please don't be worried. I'm doing that enough for the both of us."

"Syb, you're scaring me…"

There was a stillness in the air. No wind existed and the nighttime chatter at the cigar table and then at the party just beyond ceased to exist. In their solitary moment Sybil grabbed for Tom's hands and brought them to her lap. His palms, each rough knuckle, and his nails made short by anxiety were all rubbed at. It was as if she were seeking warmth but it was more likely she was biding time until she had enough courage to give him her own version of the truth.

Sybil sighed out. "I didn't cry because I was thinking of that night. I mean, I was...thinking of that night, that is. But I was thinking about all I wanted that night to be and how finally, after all these years, we were finally having it. I finally had you to show off and dance and laugh with. That was all I ever wanted, Tom," she shared in a way she hoped didn't make him ache with guilt. "And I feel pretty tonight and loved. I can't get over how happy you make me. It's how happy you made me then but I'm finally in control. My life makes sense and I don't have anything holding me back."

"Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming up?"

"Dr. Frye lied to you." There was no hesitation this time. Sybil's voice came steady and soft.

"What?" He blinked.

"He's lying to you. Still. And I've let him because I don't think I wanted to believe it...I liked the lie. I still do."

"Syb, what...what are you saying?"

Sybil's voice seemed lost in her throat. Though not with him, she had been here many times before. This was not the first time she'd devastate a patient with her prognosis. But Tom, she readily acknowledged, was no longer just her patient. "You could die, Tom. Like, there's a good chance. It's not definite," she returned, showing the weaknesses she had when it came to him. "There's also a good chance you could live...but it's not as safe as he's making it seem. It's going to take almost twelve hours and I'm just wondering if I should be involved." She exhaled, now caressing Tom's thumb and the way his hands gripped hers for strength. "I was thinking about the Gala but out there I was thinking about us, here, and how happy I am...and how I couldn't bear you not being here again. I did it once and I won't do it again."

"So what...what do we do?"

"Not we. You."

"Sybil, if this is my life, it's your life too, no? Isn't that what this is? I jump, you jump?"

"I don't know if this is something we both should be jumping into," she admitted, almost in defeat.

"I don't have to get the surgery done, Syb…"

"No, you do," she delivered in quiet assertion.

"I have, what? Twenty or so years, they say?"

"That's not funny."

"I never said it was but that's the number, isn't it?"

"Twenty years isn't enough, Tom. I won't live my life like that. I won't bring innocent children into the world with the knowledge that by the time they graduate from secondary, their dad will be dead. That's not the life I want and that's not the life we're going to have."

"Well excuse me for being selfish but I think it beats the life where I'm not here at all."

Their voices had increased in volume but as Sybil glanced back to the tent, still alive with celebration, she did her best to remain composed. Her attempt was a failed one, as all Tom could focus on were the tears dancing down her cheeks and how it was likely she was completely ignorant to them.

"I don't like any of our options. And I just realized right now that I've been so caught up in how I feel about you that I've practically forgotten about your surgery. I've really made a mistake as a doctor and now I'm doing it as a girlfriend and friend. I shouldn't have lied and I don't know how to fix this and I don't know what the answer is."

"It's not yours to fix, Sybil. I mean...it'll be okay, right?"

Another sniffle gave them a beat without noise. "God, Tom, I want it to be...I need it to be. I can't lose you again." All she was holding back came undone and Tom found himself with no other option but to pull her in, blinking straight ahead as he continued to process this.

"I might die and I'm comforting you...this hardly seems fair."

Sybil let out a laugh and slapped at Tom's lapel. Her head was on his shoulder and she was convinced, only briefly, that they could exist in this world of make believe for more than just this weekend. Soon though the moment was gone and Tom wiped at Sybil's cheeks as she straightened out her gown.

~!~

Matthew kissed Mary's neck and despite their official matrimony, she sighed away from the action, only allowing a thin grin to stretch across her face to show what she really wanted. He chuckled into her shoulder, kissing the skin there, inhaling her scent when she refused to look back to him. Their want had them pushed into an alcove just outside the party — their party. The way in which Mary dragged Matthew out of the ballroom would have suggested to a stranger that the photos and discourse the two were avoiding was not their own.

"You've pulled me away from it all," Matthew reminded in a gruff voice.

Mary smirked, finally turning back to him. "I needed to breathe."

He dropped his head back of laugh. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!" she tossed back, allowing her voice to become lazy.

Matthew shifted, moving so that the layers of Mary's dress found him at a distance. He dropped his shoulders and casually began to walk away only to find that Mary was not happy with that decision either.

It was his turn to play coy. "Well then?"

"Just stand with me for a bit, yeah?"

He smiled before stepping into her. Suddenly Matthew was so close he managed to push at Mary's gown, reminding a possible passerby of her mostly thin frame. They also would have seen the way Matthew now cupped his wife's face and placed a languid kiss to her lips. Mary responded in kind, clutching at the lapels of Matthew's jacket in an attempt to keep him close. The two remained like this, their bodies rolling as they fought for dominance. Neither minded and were only distracted when they heard footsteps approaching.

Isobel surely saw the display her son and Mary were offering. This wasn't the first time she'd caught them in a private moment and she assumed it would not be her last. The same action that might scare Mary's parents actually warmed Isobel in a way she could never quite understand. She had watched Matthew shut out the world and then she watched again when Mary's absence in Matthew's life somehow had him insisting she push her way back in. She often felt as if her own life was over the day her husband died but she was renewed to see her son so in love, especially now that the pair was expecting a child.

Matthew was slightly annoyed but still too happy to be angry at his mother. "Hi Ma," he managed. His hands fell from Mary's face but he kept her close, now lacing his arm around her back so his fingers could clutch her hip. Like the scared twenty-somethings they once were, both beamed to dismiss their embarrassment.

"I am thrilled for the both of you!" Isobel began. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Matthew looked at Mary causing the bride to exhale in sheepish apology. "It's my fault—"

But Matthew sighed too. "It's no one's fault, we—"

"I didn't want to tell my parents yet," Mary admitted. Her voice was dripping with relief. "They're not...I mean, you know that they don't—"

"They're not doctors?" Isobel tried knowingly.

Mary amusedly pursed her lips. "Something like that."

"Well I couldn't be more proud. How far along are you?"

"Five months. Could be six, I guess."

Isobel's eyes widened. "Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I believe everyone here can do the math. Besides, it's hardly the twentieth century anymore. You two have been together for a very long time. I'm honestly surprised it didn't happen sooner. I know how traditional you both try to be but I think a babe would have added a bit of excitement to things."

"I'm excited," Matthew assured. He then looked to Mary and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "We're very excited, actually."

"Not nervous?" Isobel inquired.

"Terrified, actually," Mary corrected, causing both her husband and his mother to let out a laugh.

"I think what Mary's saying is that it's always been the two of us and it won't be anymore."

"I'm also saying that motherhood is difficult and I've never done it before and—"

Isobel nodded. "Parenting isn't easy but it's certainly easier when you have a good partner by your side. You two are quite the team. If anyone has anything poor to say they must not know you."

Mary gave a genuine smile. "Thank you, Isobel. Truly."

"Of course, dear. You know you've always been like a daughter to me and I am so happy Matthew has found a life partner in you. I truly mean that. A mother couldn't be more content than to see her child so well matched and so unbelievably happy."

"Well he makes me happy too," Mary gave, her gaze now affixed on Matthew as if to show the intensity of her adoration. "It's disgusting, really…"

Matthew laughed again, now moving to bump Mary with his hip. She couldn't stop smiling, and she shared this emotion into his shoulder, only to find her own parents approaching when she resurfaced.

"What a perfect day!" Isobel let out, silently admitting that she also saw Robert and Cora. "I will let you two get back to your party," she teased, "but please know how happy you two have made me." She stepped forward and reached up to kiss Mary's cheek. The action had Mary's eyes closing while her arms made no apologies for the way they welcomed Isobel close. Matthew was not the only one capable of keeping others at a distance.

"Love you," she said simply. Honestly, she thought little of the shared sentiment.

This surely shocked Robert and Cora and they both approached wondering how many times Mary had told her mother-in-law that before beginning to calculate when they'd all said it to each other last. Mary did not mind her parents lack of open affection because she knew how deeply they loved her and Sybil. But she was somewhat sad to know her parents could never make Matthew feel the way Isobel did with her.

"Hi Mum," Mary tried softly. "Dad…"

"Can we talk?" Cora entertained.

Mary sighed. "Can this wait until tomorrow? Or...I don't know...when we get back? After the honeymoon perhaps?"

Robert chuckled. "How do you know what we're going to say?"

"She doesn't," Cora reminded. "If she did she probably wouldn't have kept this a secret."

Matthew, always wishing to protect Mary after he once failed to do that very thing, intervened. "Mary, why don't—"

"Your father and I are not mad, darling," Cora tried. "We're actually quite ecstatic. I think if anything we're upset to know you felt like you had to keep this a secret. News like this is exciting and it's made all the more so when you can share it with family."

"I know how you are…" Mary attempted to explain.

Robert quirked an eyebrow. "And how is that?"

"Traditional. Conservative. It's not fair if people talk and they will and—"

"Of course they will," Robert returned easily. "It seems people will always be talking about our family and you two have gone on to have professions that have only further placed you in the spotlight. But your mother and I are working on letting all of that go. It's taken us over thirty years but we really are trying. You're pregnant," he gestured before turned back to the door. "Your sister is—"

"Happy." Her response also lacked hesitation. "She's happy," Mary insisted again, still with a voice that did not dare to shake."

"And that's all we want for the both of you," Cora assured. "We worry and we've always wanted to protect you two but we've realized lately that our fears have maybe kept you from being honest with us. That's not fair and I'm sorry."

"We're sorry," Robert adjusted.

"Please don't be sorry. The closer I am to motherhood the more I realize I have so much more appreciation for the way I was raised. Parents do the best that they can. That's what we aim to do."

Cora brightened at the sound of her daughter referencing motherhood for the second time that night. "And you'll both be splendid parents. To a boy, correct?"

"Yeah...a boy."

"When did you find out?"

"A month ago?" Matthew shared. His attention was focused on Mary, remembering the day they found out and how for as overjoyed as he was to now have this information be public, he also cherished some of those more private moments only they would ever know.

"Mary..."

"It wasn't the worst thing to be able to celebrate on our own," Mary commanded. "It was a reminder that who we are and who we are going to be has nothing to do with the opinions of others. As long as we're happy that's all that matters."

"Well I'd say you're already far ahead of most parents if you're realizing that now. Certainly further along than we were...are, really." Robert admitted.

"Again, congratulations! Your father and I are so overjoyed and so proud and excited to welcome this baby boy into the world. Our first! And hopefully not the last!" Cora added after only a short pause.

"Actually, I think we're done. We've talked for years about only wanting one child. But I'd hardly say that means you'll only have one grandchild."

Robert shook his head. "Oh Jesus, Mary, your news was enough but—"

"Happy, Dad," Mary reminded. Though no one called upon Sybil and Tom directly, they all knew just who they were talking about. "She's just happy. And I'm just being realistic and—"

"This is your wedding," Cora hushed. "We don't need to talk about it."

"Just, uh…" Mary's voice trailed off and the delicate grip she had on Matthew's hand tightened in search of support. "Please be as kind to her as you've been to Matthew and me. She deserves it."

Robert and Cora allowed only a beat of silence to permeate. "We're trying, remember?"

~!~

The lies Sybil and Tom told themselves allowed them to enjoy the rest of the night but only until they were hidden from the rest of the world getting ready for bed. Unannounced and in a way that was ceremonious only because it so vastly contrasted all of the other nights they'd spent in this cottage so far, Sybil unzipped her own dress and let the garment fall off her body into a halo on the floor. She made no fanfare when she stepped away from the garment, leaving it behind when she walked to her nearby suitcase to grab for a shirt. As Tom watched Sybil pull the item over her head and down her stomach he sighed, allowing the action to push him back onto the edge of the mattress. He felt defeated and from the moment she'd dropped his hand at the door, he had watched her practically float away. They said nothing to one another and somehow felt even less.

Sybil was in the bathroom now, pushing at her skin to rid it of that night's makeup. Barefaced and somehow comforted by the breeze coming in through the open window she moved on to the pins in her hair. This was where Tom met her, unable to exist with her so far away for even one moment longer. He stood behind her and continued to stare as Sybil dropped her head down, revealing to him only the expanse of her neck and the freckles that hid there. In an attempt to bring her back to him, Tom grazed Sybil's arms with the pads of his fingertips, smiling only when his touch proved successful.

Sybil's features were blank as she surrendered to the sadness she was currently feeling so overwhelmed by. After their discussion in the garden she and Tom had returned to the party and somehow managed casual conversation with family members and old friends. Sybil was genuinely enthused to introduce Tom to the people that meant the most to her, but when they left all of that behind and the two were left without lights and flowers and string-sung melodies, their moods shifted. They weren't back in the garden but soon walking to their cottage with hands interlocked and no words existing between them. A part of Sybil wanted to fake it all but she'd done that for far too long and was just getting used to being honest with herself, only recently allowing herself to truly love him again.

Tom raised a steady hand to begin pulling at one of the several bobby pins in her hair. "Here…"

Sybil forced a smile, watching as all of her hair softened around her face before finally falling down her back when it was completely free of its restraints. She was relieved to be done with the task but she still felt frozen as the silence continued to demand they face the truth.

"I don't know what you want me to do, Sybil…" Tom tried weakly. "Tell me—"

She swiftly turned around, immediately moving to place her hands to Tom's face as if to confirm his presence. Tom's speech was stunted, a fact made all the more clear when Sybil kissed him strongly and then dropped her head to his chest, gripping him tightly in a hug.

"Sybil…"

"Stop talking," she mumbled.

It was a bit of humor that had Tom snickering. He wanted to respond but he stopped himself, wrapping his arms around her and then placing a kiss to the top of her head.

"I love you," came next but Sybil didn't dare pick up her head. She knew she must have looked like a child but she felt safe with Tom in her grasp. If she never let go, they'd never have to leave this place and if they never were to leave Scotland, Tom couldn't have his surgery — or rather, Sybil somehow wished for his heart condition to not exist. After all, she heard no arrhythmia as she pressed her ear to his breastbone. All of him moved so normally, so healthily, especially as he strengthened his grip and began to soothe her skin with soft circles on her back.

Tom sighed. "I love you too, Sybil. So much," his voice quaked.

She looked to him once more. "Maybe I'll tell Dr. Frye about us."

Tom blinked, swallowing. "What? Sybil…"

"He'll—"

"No, Sybil," Tom begged. "Please, love, alright? You...you can't."

"Tom, I'm terrified."

"Yeah, well I am too. I don't want to lose you either...I mean, I already have and that was a bloody stupid decision I made and now I have the power to not make that decision ever again and I am never letting you go. That's a promise. But I need you by my side. I need you to fight this with me. I told you, Sybil...none of this was okay until you were there. Even when you hated me...even when I really believed I had lost you for good. It was all still okay because you were there and you're brilliant and you're going to fix this. You're going to fix me."

Sybil shook her head, making the tears welling in her eyes all the more apparent. "I can't fix you, Tom. No one can…"

"But I need you to try, okay?"

He wanted to cry too and in seeing this and hearing the hurt in his voice, Sybil let the first of many tears fall down her cheeks. "Okay," she whispered back.

~!~

The pair fell asleep in silence. Sybil's embrace gave Tom little freedom but he somehow knew he'd find slumber if he only continued to hold her. This was confirmed when her breathing slowed and he felt the grip she had around his neck soften. Tom could finally relax, if only so he could surrender to sleep as well, and when he awoke several hours later, he was not at all surprised to find Sybil still latched onto him, curled tightly into his side with her nose pressed tenderly to the pulse point of his neck.

Tom didn't wish to wake her and he certainly didn't want to push her away but he was finding discomfort in the way their positioning found him on his back. Testing her, Tom slid his hips away from Sybil's, but as the movement pulled her hand from his shoulder, Sybil stirred and squinted to show her disapproval.

"Where are you going?" she asked raspily. Her voice showed great offense as she tried to make sense of Tom's withdrawal.

He smirked. "My arm's asleep."

She nodded and nearly sat up, allowing Tom to move so he was more comfortable. It helped him to reach out to her again once he was settled, first kissing her temple before angling her chin to ask for more. Sybil accepted, smiling into the kiss despite its unsteady nature. He awoke a fire within her, but each limb still felt so exhausted and as she continued to kiss Tom, her frame practically insisted he hold her up.

The way in which Tom wanted Sybil did little to deter her sadness but it certainly gave them a distraction. It seemed this night would end just as the others had, but this hour found them moving much more slowly with only the soft contraction of their lungs mixing with the wind.

Sybil wanted him too, but she felt so stunned by that reality she nearly fell limp beneath him. All she could manage was a strong hand to the back of his head, keeping his mouth right where she needed it. At one point Tom bucked his hips up into hers and she grinned as he chuckled into her neck in apology. The brief moment of reprieve found both content enough to part but only so they could push their already thin clothing aside in a messy attempt to connect. Determined and now frustrated with their still-clothed state, Sybil pushed Tom's briefs further down his legs, imploring that he enter her as he soon did with one languid thrust.

She continued to clutch at his arms while their lips met each time, their mouths practically shaking as they rocked against one another. Each pull away had them breathless until finally Tom dropped his forehead down to Sybil's, asking that she look at him even after he spilled himself into her.

It was a single exhale, the pair sharing air as they remained still against one another. Sybil hadn't realized but her skin was clammy and she moved only so she could rid her skin of the rest of its coverings. Tom followed, lazily kicking out of his shorts so he could lay heaving beside her. As if there were no other option, they embraced, still so afraid to let go. It was Tom's turn to doze off and as he did she realized how calm she suddenly felt after the somewhat sloppy way he'd just loved her.

Sybil thought of the Gala and Tom's surgery, but she also thought of that wedding she had once planned and the family she told him she wanted to raise. In just a week she'd have him torn open, the same chest she laid upon, sliced, excruciatingly painful but only large enough for a camera to lay, taping small, calculated movements. As she drifted off, she listened to his heartbeat. Her own chest was rising and falling with such intensity, she hoped his was doing the same and always would with her this close. Sybil couldn't bare to think that Tom had asked her to love him again only to walk away, this time having no choice in the matter but leaving her just as broken.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

x. Elle


	30. You and Me and Us

Tom couldn't quite come to terms with Sybil being back in his life and he struggled the most when he awoke each morning and found her pressed softly into his side. Every night did not find them entangled but it seemed that was the case lately, that being since their physical reunion only several weeks prior. Tom could only assume they'd return to the way they once fell asleep and inevitably drifted comfortably apart while lost in slumber. But even then he'd have no complaints, as the casual nature at which he'd wake up and find Sybil turned away from him displayed how relaxed she was; a happy defeat in nod to all they once were.

Though she was mostly ignorant to the fact, Sybil slept differently now with Tom back in her life. She was easier to stir from sleep and guilty of shifting the grip she had on his neck or arms each time he'd move. Her eyes remained shut but she would sometimes press a soft kiss to his neck, almost as if to reassure him of her presence. In a sort of selfish way, Sybil felt she needed a reminder as well.

The sun outside their window was only barely up and was already dim to show its solidarity with that day's clouds. When Tom slid out from Sybil's grasp she whined, only causing him to smile as he continued to move. His clothing from last night was strewn on the floor below and he bent over to grab for his sweatpants. Sybil watched him pull the cotton up over his hips but continued to squint as she looked to the clock on the wall.

"Where are you going?" she mumbled.

Tom grinned. "Tea," he said simply. "Want any?"

There was a pause where Sybil calculated the likelihood of Tom forfeiting caffeine to get back in bed. "No."

Tom let out a scoff of laughter. "You sure?"

"I'm going to have to get up and I don't want to get up," Sybil continued in groan. "Don't you want to stay in bed?"

"Yeah, I do. But I want tea first...so I'm going to make some tea and then get back in bed with you. Fair?"

Sybil whimpered before letting her head fall back onto her pillow. "Mhm," she sassed before turning over.

When Tom returned, however, Sybil flipped back to him and continued to pout. As he carefully sat back down, now with a hot mug of tea in his grip, she looked fondly up at him and Tom responded by caressing her cheek.

"You okay?"

Sybil could only nod. "I'm sorry I was—"

"Sybil, please don't even mention it, alright?"

"Because we had sex after?"

"No because I love you—"

Before Sybil could respond her phone rang and with the motivation that typically had her answering her work pager, she detached from Tom long enough to reach across their bed and grab for the device. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the screen. Tom saw it too: a photo of Sybil and her father.

"You gonna get that?"

"I don't really want to, to be honest."

Tom smiled. "Alright then. Don't."

The phone stopped ringing but just as Sybil was ready to toss it away, it vibrated again and began to sing out once more. She sighed before quickly placing the electronic to her ear. "Yeah?"

Robert chuckled. "Good morning to you too."

Sybil sighed again. "Why is everyone awake? Is no one else tired?"

"Were you ignoring my calls?"

"Yeah," Sybil shrugged. "I was trying to."

Her frankness had Robert laughing again. "Well your mother and I were going to invite you to brunch but I think I have our answer already."

"I mean—"

"Let me rephrase," he started again, "we'd like to invite you and Tom to brunch."

"Oh, uhh…"

"Sybil, if you don't want to go then it's fine. We just thought—"

"I'm just really tired and we haven't even gotten out of bed yet..."

"Alright, darling. It's nothing to fuss over. You'll be at lunch, I'm sure?"

"Yeah...of course." It was likely Robert gave a closing remark but Sybil dismissed it as she simply clicked off her phone. "Why did that make me feel seventeen again?" she delivered back to Tom.

"I don't know…" There were several moments of silence where Tom watched Sybil float back to his side. With him now sitting, Sybil still managed to drop her head down to his lap and Tom welcomed her weight with a steady arm that kept her close. He watched as she played with his fingers before latching them with her own. "Shouldn't," he finally remarked, still slightly distracted. "Seventeen year old you wouldn't tell your dad you and I were still in bed. Seventeen year old you wouldn't be able to neglect plans either, yeah?"

" Touché."

Effortlessly and without warning, Tom's trajectory changed. "Do you think they're disappointed?"

Sybil's gaze narrowed. "What?"

"With you. Because of me."

"I've turned down food offers before, Tom. This is hardly groundbreaking."

Tom dropped his head back to show his amusement. "I'm not talking about that..."

"Well they have nothing to be disappointed about. I'm me and I'm still me now that you're here again. Nothing has changed. Actually, I honestly think I'm more me now that you're back."

"Do they...what do they know about my surgery?"

Sybil sighed. "Oh, uhh, they...not much."

"Not much?"

"Just that you're my patient and I'm your doctor. Mary didn't give them details and when I learned that I realized I didn't want to either. They don't need to know."

"That I'm sick?"

Sybil nearly rolled her eyes. "You're not sick..."

"That I might die and leave you alone?"

She detached completely, if only so she could challenge him with a more intense stare. "Why are you saying these things?"

"Because you won't," Tom admitted casually. "Because you're not alone with your thoughts anymore and even if I have to drag all of this out of you I think it's better you just get it out. You've obviously been keeping this in for awhile and there's really no sense in it anymore."

"You're not scared?"

"We're not talking about me, Sybil..."

"Of course we are," she tossed back. "We're talking about you and me...us."

"Then no...I'm not scared for my surgery. I'm actually kind of relieved. I just want it to be over with."

"You don't have to lie, Tom..."

"Love, I'm really not," he nearly laughed. "I'm serious...I'm not worried about it. I'll go and they'll put me out and I'll pray that when it's done I get to wake up. The medical stuff isn't scary, Sybil. What terrifies me is leaving you alone. Again."

"You're not going anywhere..."

"So you're back to believing that then? Moment of weakness last night?"

Sybil shrugged and just like that she was on him again. "It comes and it goes. But I've always thought that. I've had to. When I don't...I don't let myself get there too much. Last night was just a lot."

"When else?"

"Hmm?"

"What other times have you thought about it? Early on when I'd bring you tea? Like _'ghee maybe this poor bloke will die and I won't have to tell him to fuck off'?_ "

Sybil snickered. "Hardly..."

Soon though her lack of an elaboration was made official. "Syb?"

"I thought of it the night you kissed me again. On the staircase in your flat," she gave in exhale. "Then the night we slept together."

"All night?"

"Just the first time," she returned, smirking in appreciation for his inclination toward humor, especially when it was somewhat inappropriate but sorely needed.

"And last night?"

Sybil revealed another bated breath. "Yeah. For awhile I forgot, I think. I've just been overwhelmed by everything...how I feel about you because I've always felt this way and of course I knew that but I had to force myself to realize other people were going to see it too. I guess I didn't realize that maybe I kind of liked the secrets back then."

"The sex was good," Tom reasoned, hoping to procure a smile from her.

His attempt was successful, and she shared her pursed lips with him when she shifted her eyes to his. "Yeah it's shit now that we've been honest with everyone..."

Tom reached for a nearby pillow to throw at Sybil and they laughed as she inevitably settled back into him.

"You were mine and I kind of liked that other people couldn't have opinions..." Sybil explained finally.

"Yeah but they had opinions anyway, Sybil."

"But it didn't matter because I looked them all in the eye and told them we were just friends."

"We were such liars."

"Not anymore," Sybil dismissed. "Not to the people that matter," she soon corrected. "But we were. And I was really good at it after you left, convincing everyone I was fine. Then you came back and I was still lying, trying to convince myself I wasn't still so in love with you when apparently everyone else saw through my bullshit. But then I was lying again and I didn't want to. You know now."

"That I might die? Yeah, I do."

"Tom, I'm sorry..."

"Sybil, stop, alright? If anything it's my fault right? I asked you to love me again." He delivered the proclamation to the wall opposite their bed.

"You didn't though. Because I did...I was already in love with you, Tom. I always have been and I always want to be."

Her honesty brought him back. "I was, uh, thinking yesterday...do you remember that morning I proposed?"

Sybil beamed and nodded, pleased with the pivot. "Yeah, I do."

"I scared you, didn't I?"

"I scared myself. I would have done it if that's what you wanted."

"I know you would have."

"I still would," Sybil admitted softly. "If that's what you want."

Tom blinked. "Yeah?"

"Not now," Sybil hushed quickly. "Maybe not soon...I don't know. But eventually."

"Do you remember anything else?"

"Any of our plans?" Tom nodded but looked away. Sybil's fingertips danced along his jawline, bringing him back to her. "I remember all of them. They were good plans."

"I didn't know if—"

"Do I still want children? Yeah, I want children."

"With me?"

"No with Uncle Tom Cobley."

Her words were too lovely for Tom to entertain her sarcasm; he wanted to hear more. "Do you want to stay in London?"

"I want to do what you want to do," Sybil revealed simply.

"Well then I guess we want the same things."

"I like London."

"Me too."

"But I liked Cambridge too. Dublin...Kinsale, even."

"Do you..."

Sybil lifted her head. "What?"

"Never mind..."

"Tom, I just told you I want to get married and have your children..."

"Well you're going to say no—"

"You thought I'd say no to your proposal and I didn't."

"I mean, you're at my place anyway so I've just been thinking that maybe you wanted to move in?" Tom asked nervously. "We can do it slowly, if you want. Just some things here and there. But I like going to bed with you by my side and I like waking up having you there."

"What about Em and Rory?"

"Em's looking for her own place actually. Rory's going to school back home closer to my parents but Em wants to stay in London and Rory wants her to. We've been looking at one-bedroom flats for her. Close to my place but still her own."

"Are you kicking her out?"

"No," Tom laughed. "She has needed her own place for too long. She needs to start dating again and she can kind of start over now that Rory's older."

"Can Walter come?"

"I knew you'd ask that."

"Could be a deal breaker," Sybil deadpanned.

"Yeah, of course. He can have Em's room. I'm already turning Rory's room into an office."

"He doesn't want Em's room," Sybil stated confidently. "He'll no doubt take up residence in your closet and insist on sleeping in the center of the bed—"

"Our bed?"

"Your bed," Sybil corrected matter of factly.

Tom sighed. "So is that a no?"

"It's an _I need more time to think about it_."

"You want to wait until after my operation?"

"Bloody hell, Tom! Shut up! Noooo I just...I don't know."

Tom continued to tease. "We can talk marriage and parenthood but you can't change your address to reflect where you sleep each night?"

"Listen...I've been alone for a long while now. Moving in with you is...I'm giving that up."

"I'm not asking for anymore than you've already given me, Sybil."

"I know...I know that," she assured weakly. "I just...I don't know."

"You're scared—"

"That I'll get knocked up before we get married? Yeah, I am."

Tom cackled. "Is that some type of genetic thing? Because I don't think our living arrangements have much to do with that. Do you...do you want me to move in with you?"

"No!" Sybil screeched, laughing. "I love your flat."

"Then?"

"Maybe I want to leave you in suspense!"

"Your dad is wasting his money, Sybil..."

"Maybe I don't want to start having to pay rent."

"You're a brat, y'know that?"

Sybil made a face. "You'd make me pay?"

"Fuck no! I've been paying for the past five years and I'm more than happy to continue doing so."

"I'm kidding..."

"I know you are."

"For the record, I have offered my dad money and he won't take it."

"Sad girls need all the funds they can get to keep themselves from realizing how sad they are," Tom stated seriously. "Scones and fry up are expensive."

"Yeah but you pay for all of that for me now. Despite my protests, mind you." Sybil paused. Once again she was lost in him, wondering how many sips of tea he had left before his hands were free to pull her in. "Are you sure you want to take me on full time?"

"I'm beyond positive, Sybil. It's all I've ever wanted."

~!~

On the other end of the island Mary stared at herself in the mirror while a toothbrush worked to push foamed paste past her lips. Only Matthew's undershirt covered her form and she felt as if her skin might have looked better if she had just left the previous night's makeup on. Washing it seemed to sallow her complexion, though thankfully distracting her from how crunchy and frizzed her hair looked and felt.

At the threshold Mary paused to take Matthew in. His position in bed had changed since she got up, signaling he was awake now and likely resenting that state. She snickered as she tip-toed toward him, eventually pulling up at the comforter so she could slip beneath. "Aren't you supposed to ravish me?"

Matthew chuckled. The quip had him giving in so he too was sitting up. "Like I ravished you last night?"

Mary gave a face. "I think we're probably the only newlyweds to immediately fall asleep on their wedding night. What do you think?"

"I think I waited far too long to make you my wife," Matthew admitted while pulling her in.

With her head on his chest now, Mary looked up to him. "Are you saying this would have meant more—"

"I'm saying what I've always said, Mary." He paused. "You're my best friend and I've known for a very long time that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Now you're legally obligated to want to spend the rest of your life with me too."

Mary giggled, causing Matthew to break out into laughter as well. "Good thing I'm legally obligated because that is the only way—"

Already she was laughing again, the sound only stunted when Matthew pressed his lips against hers. All of her melted beneath him as her hand laid deftly playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck. When Matthew pulled away, Mary swallowed, suddenly stunned by his need for air.

"What?"

"Nothing," he gave quickly. "I'm just happy…" Beneath the sheets his hand moved from her hip to the curve of her stomach. "It was nice to keep it a secret for awhile—"

"It?"

Matthew pursed his lips. "This baby. Our son," he said more strongly. "I liked that we could have those quiet moments where no one else knew...but I'm especially happy now that everyone does know."

"Me too," she agreed softly.

His brow furrowed. "Yeah?"

"Yeah...of course. I mean...I'm sorry? For not telling everyone sooner…"

"S'okay, love," Matthew gave, all before pressing a kiss to the skin behind her ear then letting his lips dance a syncopated path down her abdomen. "You are so beautiful…" he practically whispered. He pressed another kiss to her stomach, paying special attention to her belly button and the way it was already beginning to stretch to accommodate her growing waist.

Mary could only look down to him. Her hands clutched at her shirt, her view pronounced by the diamonds on her wedding ring and how it was sparkling as the morning sun continued to make its way in. Undoubtedly the world would expect things of them but for now she was content revealing only her eyes and the way they beamed with pride while taking in Matthew and the soon-to-be life they had created.

~!~

For some odd reason Sybil found herself calling Mary only when Tom was elsewhere. Lately it was while he was showering, a choice Sybil convinced herself was made purely out of restraint. For as much as Sybil needed her sister and boyfriend to be civil, she also enjoyed the convenience in their separation; if she did not force them to interact, their clear differences wouldn't be so glaring. Sometimes things with Tom felt so perfect Sybil feared even the slightest mishap could force them undone and often it was just easier to keep them hidden from the world — to keep Tom hidden from _her_ world.

"You're undoubtedly calling to apologize for leaving me with Aunt Rosamund earlier, correct?" Mary asked as she picked up.

"Not quite…"

"Alright then you're calling because you need something."

"Mary!" Sybil screeched. "Really?"

"You have time off from work, Sybil. You and Tom are away from the prying eyes of that god awful hospital."

"What are you insinuating?" Sybil tried, honestly skeptical. "This is _your_ honeymoon period, Mary. Not mine."

Mary sighed. "I've been with Matthew for almost a decade. I am delighted that he is finally my husband but the newness disappeared long ago. This ceremony was...it was everything I wanted and more and it will forever be one of my favorite days because getting to marry my best friend is as magical as I thought it would be—"

"But?"

"I don't think I realized how much I stopped caring about everyone else's approval. I mean...of course I do. I realize it now...I realized it very much so when I stood on that altar and told everyone I was pregnant. We've worked hard to be where we are and we'd be here with or without everyone else...without or without this wedding."

Sybil paused. "What are you saying?"

"Do you want to get dinner tonight?"

"Who? You and me?"

Mary closed her eyes in dismissal. "Let me rephrase that. Matthew and I would like you and Tom to come to dinner with us. I'm sorry...I thought that was implied."

Sybil smirked, thinking immediately of the brief conversation she'd had with her father that morning and how he'd shared similar words. "Well it wasn't. But I'm glad it is...is that okay with you?"

"It was my idea," Mary said matter of factly.

"Okay but what—"

"Sybil, there's no pretense, darling. Matthew and I love you and we'd like to meet Tom."

"Mary, you know Tom."

"Apparently I don't."

"Well he didn't make me cry last night," Sybil gave strongly and in clear defense. "I was actually really happy and then—"

"Okay."

She sighed. "I'm glad you're just believing me but it's important to me that you understand this. It's...it's a long story but none of it had to do with him...well, there—"

"Why don't we discuss it tonight?" Mary asked, almost annoyed.

"Are you going to attack him? Interrogate him? Because—"

"Sybil, please. No, alright? We just want to have a civil dinner. This is what you want, right? You want these things to be normal because you plan on him being around for awhile?"

"Is that a jab at how that was not the case last time?"

"Sybil I am seriously going to hang up this phone. Do you want to talk to Matthew?"

"I'm sorry! It's just that Daddy was also oddly accepting—"

"And Mama will come around, I'm sure. I honestly think she already has. It's just hard for her to see that Tom has been both the cause and cure of your pain. She'll get over it."

"I'd like her to," Sybil stated as if begging. "I don't want her to resent him or god forbid treat my children differently."

"Your children?"

"Our children," Sybil clarified as if it were already obvious.

"With Tom? Please tell me you're not—"

"No! Of course not! I'm smarter than that," Sybil laughed off.

"Well thanks…"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that! It's just not a good time for me with my career but once I have a year or so under my belt, I'd like to start considering it. Marriage first, if only to spare Mum and Dad the shock—"

"Sybil!"

"Mary, I'm kiddingggg," Sybil assured. "I'm just ready for my life to start. I thought I was just going to be a doctor but now I can be a wife and a mother too."

"Oh, Sybil," Mary almost whined. "Those words terrify me, darling."

"Why?"

"You just say them so confidently."

"I'm not going to lie. We did enough of that. I mean, it's not anything that's going to happen soon. But I know he wants to marry me and I'd like the same. And you know I want kids and he does too...maybe even more than I do."

"Why don't you let this baby come into this world and then you can decide?"

"Don't you want to be an aunt?" Sybil challenged.

"I'm still struggling with the idea of being a mother."

"Mary, you'll do great…"

"I'm getting fat. It's like people know now and my stomach grew over night. I can't button the jeans I wore on the plane over here."

"Is that why you're nervous?"

"About my jeans?"

"No, about—"

"No, Sybil, I'm worried that I'm going to mess the babe up!"

"That's why Matthew's there…"

"Sybil!"

Sybil laughed. "I'm kidding! This kid is going to be the luckiest little boy in the whole world. His parents are pretty cool and his auntie is even cooler…" When Mary lacked a response, Sybil continued. "Listen, I didn't mean to frighten you. I know it seems early and I'm sure you're not alone in thinking that. Dad might be on board but I know the thought of me married and pregnant is too much for him right now. I'm not rushing it. I'm just going to let things happen. I didn't have that freedom last time."

~!~

Just as Mary felt relieved to have the news of her unexpected family out in the open, so too did Sybil in revealing all the plans she had for her future. She was once so focused, first on Harvard and then medical school and recently on finishing her residency. She had surpassed all obstacles and made it past each milestone with little difficulty but on the precipice of being an actual doctor, Sybil had previously become paralyzed with fear over the lack of prospects for her future. There was no longer a course or exam that could distract Sybil from missing Tom. Luckily, she no longer had to.

This was also true in the present, when she was pulled out of her reverie by the same man she now felt so thankful for. Tom must have known Sybil was feeling vulnerable, or rather, he wanted her in the way he always did and was not hesitant as he began to walk to her with a smirk on his face.

He wrapped his arms around Sybil's waist and pulled her back into him, keeping her close. Her hands rested atop his as her head leaned back, soft on his shoulder. Tom pressed a kiss to her neck, causing Sybil to turn around and ask for more with her lips. Neither could contain their joy, even as they separated and fell back into casual adoration.

"I thought you'd wait for me," Sybil teased.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "I have no problem getting back in that shower."

Sybil's cheeks flushed and she looked away. "We don't have time and I don't want to be late for lunch."

Tom sighed as he detached. "Alright."

Sybil stared at him as he moved to get dressed. "We're getting dinner with Mary and Matthew tonight."

"Oh we are?"

"Is that okay?" she asked honestly.

"I mean, it sounds like hell, but…"

Sybil couldn't quite tell if Tom was kidding or not. She stepped into him with arms crossed over her chest so she could have her answers. "Can you please try to get along with them?"

Tom sighed out. In jeans he now grabbed for Sybil's hands and pulled her so she was in front of him while he sat back on the bed. "Love, of course I will. But I tried for a full year before you came into my life. Neither were too kind, and that's certainly an understatement."

"Yeah but Matthew was a wanker to Mary then. Things change, Tom. People, most importantly, change," she said, causing him to realize if she were possibly referring to him, or maybe even to them in general. "They mean a lot to me and you mean a lot to me and I need you all to respect one another. And if you enjoy one another's company that honestly wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

Tom stood again, returning to his earlier activity as he tossed an undershirt over his head. "And when do we tell everyone you're moving in with me?"

Sybil smirked, causing her cheeks to sit high on her face. "When I finally make up my mind."

"Sybil, really?" Tom asked with defeated shoulders.

"I'm going to pose it as a question. See what they think. Test the waters and such. But I'll probably have my apartment still."

Tom sighed. "I'm not going anywhere, Syb…"

"I know that," she assured. "But my parents aren't going to be very happy. I need to ease them into it."

"They know Mary's pregnant now so maybe they'll be more lenient."

"That's a possibility. But I doubt it. We'll see."

"I'd like you in my bed every night…" Tom reminded, somehow rather innocently.

Sybil continued to smile. "I'm sure you would."

"No. Really. I mean that, Sybil," Tom tried once more with a voice that begged her to believe him. "I want to go to bed with you by my side and I want to wake up with you by my side. It's what I've missed the most. Just having you there."

She nodded, as if to keep the tears she felt pricking at her eyes from sliding down her face. "I'm here. I promise."

~!~

Cora lightened up at lunch, even going as far as to ask Tom how his most recent semester had gone and if he planned to teach any classes over the summer. He did, of course, and when he made a joke about needing something to do when the hospital demanded so much of Sybil's time, Cora even smiled. She found it unsettlingly easy to enjoy Tom's company when she gave herself permission to do so.

Gwen and Will felt similarly, though they needed far less prodding. After lunch the four went into town to explore and sightsee. Sybil didn't want to mention anything but she immediately noticed how well Tom fit in with her friends, almost to the extent that she could see them spending time together without her. She also noted how she wasn't bothered by that fact; she was actually warmed by the thought of Tom and Gwen getting lunch or Will taking Tom on one of his museum jaunts.

It was for this reason that Sybil felt hopeful going into dinner with Mary and Matthew and as the two walked toward the restaurant, Sybil was forced to remind herself that she deserved every bit of this. She'd lived several years on her own, that truth earning her her current reality where Tom held her hand and kissed her fingers when words between them didn't seem to be enough.

"You are ridiculously smiley, Sybil Crawley," Tom commented.

She continued to grin, only proving his point. "Am I?"

"You are…"

"Is that a complaint?"

"Not a complaint," Tom stated quickly. "I just...nevermind."

Sybil paused. "Tom…"

"I just haven't seen you this way in awhile."

"I've been like this lately. Or I've tried to be like this lately. It's certainly easier with everything out in the open. I like loving you outloud."

Tom chuckled. "I like loving you outloud too."

"I guess I feel like I did then...all those years ago. Falling in love with you was magical, Tom," her voice gave plainly but in a tone that demanded his attention. "I don't know if I ever told you that."

"No, but you didn't have to. Likewise…" his voice trailed off as she stepped into him. Neither cared that they were now on a well-trafficked sidewalk as Tom held Sybil softly in his arms and stole a kiss.

"It's kind of magical now…"

"Kind of?" Tom teased.

"I have to guess that if I've loved you all these years...even when I hated you," she added, "that loving you from here on out will be easy."

Tom kissed her once more. "You deserve easy."

Sybil tightened the grip she had on Tom's hand. They were only a few storefronts away from the restaurant and she couldn't afford to enter dinner with anything other than the lovely thoughts that had brought her this far. " _We_ deserve easy," she said simply.

Upon entering the restaurant, Sybil and Tom looked around and then gave the hostess their name when they failed to find Mary and Matthew. As they waited for their table, Sybil looked to Tom once more.

"You look handsome," she said softly as she reached out to straighten his tie.

Tom snickered. "This is normal attire for me," he assessed honestly. "I should be commenting on you and this dress—"

"Which you have," Sybil sang. "Many times."

"Exactly. You're usually in scrubs which...no complaints there but I'm partial to this version of you."

"Date-me?"

"Could be date-you. I was just talking about you outside of the hospital. I love Doctor-Sybil but I didn't fall in love with Doctor-Sybil I just fell in love with Sybil." He paused. "Are we counting this as a date then?"

"Our first?" Sybil played along.

"Second," Tom corrected.

Sybil smiled brightly. "Dublin?"

"Dublin," Tom nodded.

Sybil kissed his cheek once more, and on a bench just steps away from the front door, this was where Matthew and Mary saw the two sharing a sweet kiss amongst all the restaurant noise.

"Oi!" both heard, causing them to separate. Sybil stood first but when Tom was brought to his feet he realized how close they were and when his hand went to her arm, he realized the shock had him on the defense.

"Matthew…" Mary already admonished.

"What's it to you?" Sybil shout out, mostly in jest.

Matthew bumped her with his shoulder, the action causing Tom to finally relax. "A bit old to be snogging in public, yeah?"

Mary rolled her eyes. "He's just jealous. That somehow seems childish once you get married." She stopped talking only so she could give their name to the hostess once more.

"No marriage for us then," Sybil quipped.

"Yeah, we can talk about that," Mary said casually before turning away to walk to their table.

"Speaking of," Sybil began as they all began to unfold their napkins and place the cloth in their laps, "how is married life?"

"I don't think it has hit me yet. Has it hit you yet?" Matthew asked, turning to his wife.

"No, certainly not," Mary returned. "It just feels like we're on vacation."

"I mean, I don't have any complaints so far?" Matthew offered.

Mary looked to her husband and smiled. "Certainly no complaints."

A waitress came over to take their drink orders. When silence found them looking to their menus, with each couple whispering to one another, Sybil finally closed her menu and gave the table a thought separate from her meal choice. "I'm going to move in with Tom when we get home," she said strongly.

Tom swallowed and hesitantly looked up to gauge Mary and Matthew's reaction. Both were slightly slack jawed, clearly as surprised as he was. Soon he was joining the pair in looking to Sybil for an elaboration.

"Like...soon?" Mary tried cautiously.

"Soon," Sybil gave without hesitation. "Or...I want to," she finally backtracked, but likely due to their lack of support and not her lack of conviction. She had originally planned on telling Tom her thoughts that night before bed but somehow this felt more natural. She was no longer testing the waters, as she'd said. She'd asked for permission for many years and she was done allowing other people's thoughts influence her actions. Sybil made a mental note to thank Mary for her bold display on the altar the day before; it was the last bit of courage Sybil needed to begin actively living her life.

Mary turned to Matthew. "What do you think?"

"I think it's soon," he reiterated honestly.

"It is but it's closer to the hospital and—"

"You're there most days anyway?" Mary guessed.

"Yes. Mostly."

"Mum and Dad are going to have a fit, Sybil. And what about Gwen and William?"

She sighed. "I have lived a lot of my life being their support system. I watched them go through horrible dates and boyfriends and break-ups. I think they'll be okay with giving me the same support. I hope they will be at least."

"Why the rush?"

"I'm dying," Tom gave casually. He added a laugh but Sybil was not relaxed by his calm nature; his words actual had the opposite effect.

"No, he's not," she disregarded in clear distaste.

"I could. I mean, it's likely."

"Tom, stop it," Sybil gritted. She turned back to Mary and Matthew. "He's not dying. He's not going to die," she said again as if her words meant something different when delivered twice.

Mary could only blink. "I don't know what to say when someone says they might die."

"Well we all _might_ die," Sybil reasoned. Tom smirked to hear the same statement she'd given him many times before. Originally those words were given to him by Doctor-Sybil but he was happy to have her here now, his girlfriend, delivering them outside the hospital just the same.

"So wait," Matthew began, "Sybil, are you actually performing on Tom?"

"Yes. Well, I'm assisting Dr. Frye who is operating on Tom."

"Isn't that...I mean, I get it, Tom, she's who I'd want on my team too but...isn't that a conflict of interest?"

"Dr. Frye is in love with Sybil and they still work together," Tom quipped.

Sybil rolled her eyes. "He's kidding."

"I'm not kidding," Tom assured. "He is in love with you. But regardless...it probably is but—"

"Sybil, you could get into a lot of trouble."

"Can we please not discuss this right now?"

Mary felt powerless as she watched Matthew share all he was thinking. She knew some of these things and she felt poorly in realizing she hadn't shared them all with her husband. However she also felt bad to see the way Matthew's interrogation was slowly causing Sybil to crumble.

"I just don't want you to lose everything you've worked for—"

"And I don't want to lose him!" Sybil stated quite loudly. There were only a few but several patrons looked over, only causing Sybil to lean further into the same man she'd just declared her love for. His hand now gripped her thigh in support. It was a physical affirmation of her earlier declaration: _I'm here. I promise._

"Sorry…" Sybil mumbled in embarrassment.

"She's not going to lose me," Tom gave casually. "Everything will be fine."

"It better be," Mary returned, coming off a sip of her sparkling water. "I'd hate for Sybil to move all of her things only to have to move back again…" She took one more sip and shared a sly grin with everyone at the table. The mood was gone only to be replaced by the meals they soon ordered and talk of babies and Scotland and work. They did not discuss Tom's surgery or the fact that Sybil would be an official doctor in just two short months. Just as Tom wanted Sybil in his bed, Sybil wanted Tom beside her while all of this happened — she _needed_ Tom beside her while all of this happened.

~!~

Tom came out of the bathroom only to find Sybil shrugging out of her jacket. Immediately he went to her, his hand reaching to still hers as he made quick work of pulling at the zipper at the back of her dress.

"What did you do before me?"

"Oh, I was absolutely helpless," Sybil said in sarcasm as she turned to face him. "Thank god for William and Gwen or else I'd just be wearing dresses for days…"

Tom tickled at her sides, causing the dress he'd just unzipped to fall to her hips. She was somehow in his arms now and surrendering to that fact, her mouth practically dropping open as he pushed the material off her hips and down her legs. Without warning he picked her up and held onto her tightly as he fell down to the bed with her still beneath him. He kissed her lips but was soon content just staring down at her while she kept her hands lazily wrapped around his neck, not once worried that he'd let her go.

"Where's your head at, Sybil?"

She smirked. "I'm just thinking that we have to go home soon…"

"Yeah?"

"I'm thinking about the night we had before we had to leave Dublin and I'm remembering how awful that train ride back to Kinsale was. I had to stop loving you like this for a bit…" Her voice trailed off but the sentiment behind her words remained, lingering in the air. "I'm going to have to stop that again, just for a bit. But it's not forever and back then it certainly felt like forever and I guess now that we're finally here I can say that for a long time it still felt like forever."

"But?"

"But this time next week we officially have nothing to hide. You'll be healthy and we can stop lying. Falling for you was magical, sure...I meant that and I believe in that with everything in me but I just feel like I'm steps away from finally having everything I have ever wanted and I can't even fathom that not being a possibility at this point. You'll be fine. We'll be—"

Tom cut her off with a kiss, a tender one that had Sybil stunned even after they pulled away. "We'll be fine."

* * *

THANK YOU to my beautiful readers who review and still follow this story! You're all wonderful and I adore your kind words. Sadly we only have a few chapters left but I really hope everyone is happy thus far. Now to get to this surgery…

x. Elle


	31. Break My Own Promises

**A/N** : I still can't believe so many of you have been patient and are still following this. I clearly have *the best* readers. Thank you!

* * *

Sybil was almost always awake before Tom but this morning felt different. Perhaps it was the way she skirted about his room, picking up her clothing and putting some of it back on before throwing the rest in a nearby duffel bag — a clear sign of her indecision over moving into Tom's flat permanently. Maybe it was the way the bed beside Tom was unreasonably cool; the vacancy highlighted the lack of warmth Tom was experiencing now with Sybil so far away. More likely it was the speed at which Sybil moved and how for as tightly as she had gripped him in her sleep, Tom somehow failed to feel her slip from his grasp.

In picking up his head off his pillow Tom saw Sybil only in flashes of light. He moved slowly, his eyes squinting to get a better view of his alarm clock. No light filtered in through the curtains and when Tom reached for his watch from the nightstand he practically groaned at the early hour it showed.

"Sybil…" he began as he turned over in bed so he could sit up and face her. She continued to move, occasionally picking up articles of clothing and then tossing them back down again. "Syb?"

"I'm missing my camisole," she said simply. "Have you seen it?"

Tom smirked. "No, I have—"

"Well I need it because I need to finish getting dressed so I can get out of here."

Still drowsy, Tom tossed off the covers and moved to stand. Again he watched Sybil, now in scrubs, disappear into his closet. "Got it!" she gave enthusiastically. She returned with the item on and before she had the cotton pulled down her abdomen she was already reaching for her shirt.

"Sybil…"

"I have to go," she stammered.

Tom's eyes narrowed once more. "Syb—"

"Now," she said, cutting him off. "I have to go now."

He noticed her hair and how some waves still maintained moisture from a shower he'd apparently slept through. "You showered?"

"Uh, yeah, I did."

"You didn't want to wait for me?" he half-teased, hoping to procure a smile from her pale pout. "I thought—"

"No...no, Tom, I…" Her mind was lost again and with it she struggled to give him her gaze. When she finally looked to him, Tom thought she might cry. In realizing this, he acknowledged how easy it would have been to join her.

"Did I do something?"

"No!" she gave, also hurriedly. This time, however, the speed of her words was purely for Tom's benefit.

"Okay…"

"I shouldn't have stayed here last night. This was a bad idea...a very bad idea."

Tom pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. "You thought it was a good idea last night," he reminded.

"Yeah well you convince me of a lot of things."

He was back to her almost immediately, grabbing for her hands before cupping her cheeks, insisting her body still against his own. "Hey...hey, I love you."

"I love you too, Tom."

"Sybil, love, it's going to be fine."

"We shouldn't have had sex," she said simply. "I should have been working to detach myself last night."

"Can you really do that? I mean, that easily? You just detach?"

"No," Sybil shrugged as if the answer were an obvious one. "Of course not. But the thought would be comforting."

Tom did detach and when he stepped away from her he saw the way she practically deflated in his absence. "You're freaking me out. I know that's not your intention but it's still shit."

"Tom, I'm sorry…"

"Syb, do your thing." He didn't look to her and the way he was pushing her away somehow slowed her down in the same way his hands to her skin had just moments prior.

"Alright, don't be like that. This is what I mean! I don't want to go into this with any thought other than _I love this man_ and now that's exactly what I feel and that's not helping either...ughhhh!" she groaned, bringing herself out of her reverie.

Tom sighed. "I'm going to hop into the shower. Are you going to be here when I get out?"

"No," Sybil pouted, knowing that was the answer she should give. This morning seemed to be all about the things she should do, each action standing in stark contrast with what her heart truly wanted.

He chuckled in slight disbelief and disappeared into the bathroom. There was a pause, one Sybil knew well by now, where she could picture Tom shaving and then instinctively fixing his hair as if the water he'd soon stand under wouldn't ruin all of his work. When the water came on she felt her bones chill, thinking of how empty she felt showering that morning, already missing a man that slept just a room away. Sybil saw Tom now, first shampooing his hair and then brushing his teeth. She loathed this habit and remembered wondering if it was one she could convince him to abandon when they were finally married. That sort of fanciful curiosity was born over eight years ago and ignited only recently. Now she found herself smiling about all the times they did shower together and Tom brushed his teeth with her before getting into the tub. Sybil was already placing bets, convincing herself that the next time they were together in that room she'd allow him to do whatever he wanted. It was as if her insistence upon this future promise granted him safety through the day's surgery.

Moments passed and Sybil remembered none of them. She sat on the edge of Tom's bed, ready for work but frozen in place with her head dropped down to her hands. When Tom reemerged, Sybil sprang up. There was relief in her movement; this was the enthusiasm he expected when Dr. Frye entered the hallway after his surgery and informed Sybil all was well. That version of things had Sybil truly detached; that version of things was comforting because it meant Sybil would not be the one operating on Tom.

But Tom had just taken a shower and now greeted her in a towel and a crooked grin on his face. He clutched the terrycloth and when it was tossed aside and he was more fully clothed, he turned back to Sybil. "You're pretty, Sybil Crawley," was all he could manage.

She sighed. "I didn't want to leave without knowing you're not mad at me."

"Sybil, I'm not mad at you, love. I'm really, really calm and I'm just upset that you're not. I don't like you getting worked up and I certainly don't like that I'm the cause."

"Alright. Fine. I'm not worked up."

Tom laughed. "That's not even kind of reassuring."

"Can you just get ready so we can get out of here?"

"Is that a good idea? Us showing up together?"

"What? I'll walk down the hall and then you'll walk down the hall. It's coincidence."

"Like you getting assigned to my case?" he quipped arrogantly.

"Tommmm!" Sybil whined. "Let's go!"

~!~

In the same way Sybil couldn't manage anger toward Tom for more than a few moments, so too could the couple not resist one another as they made it out of Tom's flat hand in hand. All too soon Tom had Sybil smirking and immediately thereafter he was hushing her laughter as he pressed them up against his car so he could seize her lips. It was soft but wanton and both struggled to part even as the minutes ticked on. With his hands on her hips Tom was doing his best to remind Sybil of all they now were and how closely their current relationship resembled the love they shared so many years ago. He also didn't want to go into this operation with any thoughts other than ones that told of Sybil's love for him.

They had discussed possibly parting on the tube, occupying different cars in an attempt to disconnect. That too was a fruitless plan and the ride in found Sybil with her head on Tom's shoulder, her hands playing with his fingers, holding as much of him in her lap as she could. They fit into this world and thanked the crowded city's commuters for giving them privacy. If this were any other place - Kinsale or even Cambridge - they surely would have been found out. But in London Tom kissed Sybil once more and allowed her to keep her arms around him until she decided she was strong enough to let go. They did this just blocks from the hospital and Sybil somehow managed to hold back tears as he felt him following behind when they finally separated only to walk in the very same direction.

Inside Sybil rushed toward the elevator and when she got to the correct floor she stared at the linoleum below while she paced toward the breakroom. Neither William nor Ben were there, telling Sybil she was lucky for getting out of bed when she did. If they were present it was likely Sybil would have noticed just how loud she was being as she tossed her jacket into her locker, only to grab for her work shoes. As she sat back she checked her phone and was both surprised and relieved to find Tom had not reached out. Even so she pictured him just a few floors below fighting the urge he had to at least send her a text. Or maybe he was surrounded by nurses who were already pricking and prodding, some for vitals and other for basic information he'd most definitely given them before.

When William and Ben arrived Sybil was already scrubbing in. By the way the two received glares from Dr. Frye, the same glare they followed back to Sybil before the doctor lost himself in Tom's file, both men figured she'd been washing her hands for quite some time. It wasn't unlike Sybil to arrive early but it was rare for her to be so lost in a task she failed to be aware of her surroundings. The brunette did not even flinch when they opened the door, practically urging Ben to wash his hands in the sink closer to the door so William could approach his best friend.

"Sybil?"

She greeted him with doe eyes and a smile even she seemed to be surprised by. "Oh hey!"

"Hey?"

She blinked rapidly. "What?"

"Are you okay?"

Her smile only spread. "What...what do you mean?"

William turned around, briefly looking to Ben if only to gauge how convincing he was in his inattention. "I thought we said you'd come home last night because…"

"I'm fine."

William nearly rolled his eyes, mostly in frustration. "Well I didn't ask—"

"Why wouldn't I be fine?"

"You don't...okay," he settled, nearly raising his arms in surrender for emphasis.

"Will?"

"Yeah?"

She wore that same sweet smile. "Trust me okay?"

"I...I do trust you. I just...never mind."

"Okay great!"

William couldn't disregard his discomfort completely. "Great?"

Sybil exhaled and took a step toward him. "Remember how you used to make fun of me because I was always excited for tests? I had studied and I was ready to show off...well this is kind of like that. I've worked my butt off and this is about to prove I am more than capable working beside Dr. Frye full time."

"Sybil…"

"Will you stop?" Sybil tried with a laugh.

Will couldn't even force a cordial smirk. "This isn't a test, Sybil…"

"It's essentially a test," she shrugged.

"Yeah but you're in love with this test," he whispered through gritted teeth.

There was a beat of silence. "Good luck, yeah?"

Sybil didn't give William time to respond. Ben watched her walk away only to join a seemingly clueless Dr. Frye. In her wake Ben approached William, soon perturbed to find Will not shifting his attention his way.

"It's...it's not my business, but…" Ben nervously rubbed at the back of his neck and gave an anxious laugh. "Well I guess it's kind of my business because I'll be in there too...we can...I mean, I will, if you want...we can still tell Dr. Frye."

William turned to Ben, wearing a look of disdain that told him that perhaps the ground the men stood on wasn't as leveled as they originally thought. His eyes narrowed. "Tell him what?"

"William...really?"

With Sybil gone it was William's turn to lie and he was shocked by his own words even as they came out. "You know what Ben? You're right. It's none of your business."

There was undoubtedly an uneasy air as the trio all moved to stand before Dr. Frye. Surgical procedures were reviewed until finally another doctor entered, his presence interrupting the clear tension. He gave Dr. Frye a quick wave, and then in a way that was anything but casual, he nodded toward Sybil. With everyone now looking to her she turned around, pretending to study some of Tom's old charts.

Philip was an anesthesiologist and though he was nearly forty-five he had grown fond of Sybil in her early days of residency. He was tall and handsome and had a smile so perfect everything that fell from his mouth sounded fanciful. Dr. Frye even commented on his charisma, then to mollify a rather weird moment when Philip had asked Sybil out and the then twenty-two year old's cheeks blushed, leaving her speechless.

Sybil was quiet again, but now because she wished to ignore the way Tom had walked into the operating room, shook Philip's hand, and then followed the instructions given to him by a nurse as they all worked to begin his sedation.

Minutes passed, a substantial period of time being lost to nothingness, where Sybil turned away from her group and stared blankly at the watch on her hand. Even as she watched the hands of the clock tick on she still lost track of time, and yet when Philip reappeared she found herself surprised to see him so soon.

He exchanged conversation with Dr. Frye, the two men laughing in a way that brought unease to Sybil. She was ready to turn back to everyone only when she felt Philip heading for the door. As she did, however, she spun right into him, only causing the doctor to chuckle, flashing her that infamous smile.

"Hey."

"Hey," Sybil returned plainly.

"Where have you been?"

"Working, as usual," she shrugged. "My sister got married."

"I saw that. Congrats to her! I've played a few charity golf tournaments with Matthew. I don't know if he'd remember me but he's a nice guy."

"Yeah, he'll do," Sybil quipped, earning her a softer smile from Philip.

"So when are you going to finally let me take you out?"

He was forward, causing the mirth Sybil felt to dissipate to seriousness. "Out?" she tried to challenge.

"Wherever you want, whenever you want. Just tell me what I have to do to see you outside of this hospital."

"It's a rare occurrence. Don't take it personally."

"My god Sybil, you are a tough one."

"I…"

Philip fixed his posture as if to take a step back. "I can take a hint. It's fine. I just-"

Sybil didn't know whether it was the prying eyes of her surgical team or the lies she had told her best friend but her demeanor changed, perhaps before she was even aware. "No, I...yeah, we should go out."

His gaze narrowed. "Yeah?"

Sybil felt it now, the intense stare Dr. Frye was giving her as he processed their conversation from afar. "Yeah, I...definitely. Maybe lunch next week or-"

"I can do better than lunch. What if I visit you tomorrow? Maybe when your boss isn't burning holes into my back while I try to talk to you…"

Sybil chuckled. Just behind him Dr. Frye was watching the two and even further back, Tom was nearly sedated, almost ready for his procedure to begin. There was a lump in her throat but Sybil swallowed it down, doing her best to replace it with a genuine smile. "I'm looking forward to it."

When Philip left Sybil turned away once more, this time realizing just how on edge she was. When she turned back, ready to begin, she was met with the same stares from Dr. Frye. Her stress levels only increased when she realized she couldn't decipher the tone of his silent judgement.

~!~

Sybil had been here many times before. Even so she was always fascinated with the body's inability to bleed as a scalpel cut into the skin of a human chest, just inches away from a beating heart. It was this same interest that had her first interested in cardiology and she hoped as she continued her career it would always be this way.

So far Sybil had yet to touch Tom. Dr. Frye had done all the work thus far, leaving her and William and Ben to simply watch. They remained silent as Tom's skin was cauterized, the same line cut by the lancet now spreading to reveal layers of skin in shades of crimson and gold. There was still no blood, and this remained the case until the skin of his chest was split completely, revealing a perfectly placed ribcage. Just last night Sybil had run her hands along Tom's abdomen as her hands gripped him tight. She'd often felt the ridges beneath his skin when they made love and her hands fell from his shoulders in ecstasy. He was breathing then and though that was the case now Sybil found her own inhale hitching at the thought of him existing now between states of consciousness.

Dr. Frye was not gentle by any means. In an attempt to coax Tom's skin softly apart he used his finger, then surgical scissors that clipped at skin Sybil knew would eventually scar. This trend continued as he carefully sawed at Tom's sternum, stopping halfway only to ask William to complete the task. His insistence on speed told more of his confidence in his team than his inclination toward inflicting pain - all of which Sybil knew Tom would only feel later. She was pulled out of this thought by the feeling of cool metal on her own skin. Even through her gloves she could feel the steel of the sternal retractor as Dr. Frye passed the tool her way.

"Don't be afraid to apply pressure," he reminded.

Sybil nodded. Ben shifted to give Sybil a better angle at which to expose Tom's heart. Pressure, it seemed, was not needed. All too easily Tom's heart was revealed, at least the part of it that created movement with each passing second. With it was the first view of blood. Sybil tossed a carefully placed cough over her shoulder, earning a glance from William only.

Ben worked to separate Tom's skin from the rest of his sternum. He needed less coaxing and both Sybil and William found themselves surprised, and secretly impressed, to find the boy moving so confidently. He didn't need instruction as he began to rid the area of the blood that pooled there. He took a page out of Dr. Frye's book, not fearing the sheer deliberation behind his movements as he dipped a wad of gauze beneath Tom's sternum only to pull it out. Though Sybil stood on the opposite side of the table she saw how Tom's insides coated the cotton and how Ben refused to slow down, dipping further in and producing more and more blood in an ironic attempt at cleaning up the target area.

Each time more of Tom was revealed. The sight of it had Sybil's grip nearly slipping. She wanted to cough again but swallowed down the air that felt caught in the back of her throat. William nudged at his best friend, moving to grab for her tools without warning. It was only when Sybil held the balfour in her hand that she was brought immediately back to the moment. Soon she was determined, inserting the device and then twisting at its base with the hope of increasing the distance between each half of Tom's sternal plate. It worked, just as it had so many times before but Sybil was confused to find Dr. Frye moving her hands, only to hand her a wad of gauze, silently asking her to perform the same task Ben previously had.

Sybil had been here many times before and somehow this was so incredibly different.

Even so she did not move hesitantly. She merely concentrated on Tom's heart and how it continued to perform a consistent beat despite being so exposed. Sybil did as she was asked, tapping at the tissue to reveal it more fully. Then she was holding scissors, snipping at Tom's skin dangerously close to his atrium. She continued until she felt a cough bubbling out again. Her mouth went dry and her face flushed, heat pressing at her cheeks as she blinked rapidly to bring her eyes back into focus.

William must have noticed because he took the items from her. It was a smooth transition, allowing for Sybil to take a step back from the table. Even from where she stood she could see Tom's heart beating but this time she did not cough or even swallow. She couldn't, as it was more than just air stuck in her throat. Sybil did not ask or even indicate that she was ready to run. At once she was gone, out of the operation room and into the hall, gasping breaths tickling her lungs to no avail. She must have thought she was back in control because she tapped at the door switch with her elbow as if to display the first step of her return.

The door opened but Sybil did not walk through. Suddenly she was in front of a nearby wastebin, her arms clutching at its sides as she wretched the contents of her stomach inside. The door that had opened invited Dr. Frye to where he now stood, wide-eyed and clearly disappointed as he took her in. Maybe he did love her, or maybe he was just as upset with her as she was with herself. Maybe some of the disappointment he felt was with himself for ever allowing any of this in the first place. With her lungs still heaving and Tom's heart still so exposed only a room away, Sybil had no other option but to stare back.

* * *

x. Elle


	32. Wish That You Were Here

Across town Mary sat at her desk sharing lunch with Matthew. Her phone laid face down upon the mahogany, a habit she'd picked up since the wedding, especially as her due date drew near. Sybil existed in a small mass on the floor of a bathroom just down the hall from Tom's operation room. Her situation was greatly dissimilar to her sister's but also stood in stark contrast with the cleanliness she'd worked toward just an hour earlier while scrubbing in. Or, Sybil began to wonder, maybe much more time had passed and she was so lost in anxiety and tears she'd failed to realize. Sybil assumed she could huddle in this bathroom uninterrupted for hours if that was what she truly wanted.

Her hands shook as they typed at her phone, tapping at the glass only to erase her message and initiate a phone call. It rang, the first hum nearly causing her to hang up. Still she persisted, even when the call was transferred to Mary's voicemail.

There was a cough in her throat, one Sybil let out just as the receiver began to record. Unlike before it did not work to relieve her throat of its tension but instead revealed it more fully. Sybil wasn't even aware she was still crying but that was certainly the case as a sob bubbled out, echoing across the line.

"Mary...I...I messed up, Mary. All of it. Tom...I freaked out and I ran out and now I don't know if he's okay or if…" Her voice trailed off as she tightly shut her eyes only willing more tears to fall. "I don't know if I have a job anymore or if I'll ever have a job...this was stupid and everyone tried to warn me and I just thought if I could be there for him that everything would be okay, you know? He acted like he wasn't scared but I know he was. Even if he wasn't I was terrified enough for the both of us. But I still didn't think I'd react like that. There was just so much blood," she emphasized. "I guess it's different when it's him." Sybil paused, shocked to find herself still allotted time to speak. "I really thought that...well I don't know what I thought," she tried to chuckle. "But it's a mess and I'm a mess and I don't know what I'll do if he—" Another wave of sobs wracked at Sybil's frame, causing her shoulders to heave as her body shook in agony. "You don't have to call me back. Maybe it's best if you don't. I just don't know what to do."

Somehow Sybil hung up before the connection had a chance to cut her off. Briefly she wondered if she'd said anything at all or if Mary would soon receive a message of nothing but sorrow, just Sybil's crying echoing in the empty bathroom.

Eventually she did stand, pushing off the wall as if it was her legs, not her heart, that were weak. Sybil didn't even look to the mirror before exiting and though she kept her eyes trained to the floor all the way to the elevator she sensed it was not her puffy cheeks but her overall presence that had everyone gawking. Her confidence and the smile she now wore greeted the entire cardiology wing, only adding to the mystery.

"Where's Dr. Kennedy?" Sybil inquired.

A nurse looked to Sybil. "He called in sick—"

"Makes sense," she mumbled as she now looked down to a nearby file.

"Sybil?" the nurse tried again. Her mouth was slow, waiting for her calculating mind to catch up before she could continue.

"Because Dr. Frye asked me to—"

A _Code Red_ rang out over the loudspeakers, giving Sybil permission to toss away the file she held and head toward the identified room. It seemed she did not need to lie about being needed with the floor so clearly unattended. The patient's state of cardiac arrest surely had nothing to do with the absence of doctors but it certainly helped Sybil avoid what could have been a messy fib. Everyone's concern and concentration was shifted to a patient long enough for Sybil to deem herself useful. Without any doctors she could continue doing so for all the morning rounds, visiting patients and eventually taking care of another _Code Red_. She didn't take a lunch or even slow down long enough to realize she had a headache that could possibly be cured by a cup of tea. Sybil had no need to lie to others when she was doing such a wonderful job lying to herself. Then again, maybe this was where she truly was meant to be today, not several floors down watching Tom's exposed heart beat at an alarmingly slow rate.

By the time she retired to the breakroom after a full nine hour shift, Sybil had convinced herself all would be fine. When even an ounce of doubt crept into her thoughts, Sybil banished it with determination toward slumber. But one step toward a nearby cot had Sybil immediately stepping back, ready to grab for the door. She lost the consistency she'd experienced all day and now with slowed down limbs she thought only of Tom. Her own heart quickened but before she could act on it she was jolted back, suddenly experiencing uninvited movement as the door opened without her aid. Instantly she was reliving her morning and how she'd attempted to reenter Tom's surgery only to be silently dismissed by Dr. Frye.

"Sybil?" It was not Dr. Frye and the way in which William enveloped Sybil in his arms told her all the wrong things.

She was crying, perhaps more than she was aware, and she buried her face in his chest as if upset at that fact. "Tom…" she mumbled, unable to get anything else out.

"He's fine," William assured. "He's fine," he continued to chant, all while pushing back at her hair and rubbing her back in an attempt to calm her breathing. "Sybil…"

"Thank you," she mumbled.

William looked down to his best friend. "I didn't...I didn't do much," he admitted. "You left and I started worrying about you and...Ben really stepped up," he settled.

"I don't know what to do, Will."

"There's nothing you can do, babe. It's done. Tom's being set up in a room now. Why don't you and I—"

Sybil instantly lifted her head. "What? Already?"

"Sybil, he's still asleep."

"And he'll be asleep for awhile, Will, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't be there." Her voice was lost to sadness again, all of it bubbling out in a way that turned her face a violent shade of pink as she reached up to cover her mouth.

William pulled her in once more. "I know, Syb. I know…" he hushed.

"I'm worried he's not going to wake up, Will. I'm worried and…"

"I know," he accepted again.

"What if I lose him too?"

William blinked as if to bring the moment back into focus. "Sybil, you won't...everything's going to be fine."

She continued to sob, giving her next declaration into the crook of William's arm. "If you want to know how I was when I lost Tom all those years ago—"

William smirked, thankful for her resilience and the humor it revealed. "Is this it?"

"No," Sybil gave with a voice that shook, bringing them plunging back to seriousness. "This is much, much worse."

"Sybil, nothing is...he's fine. He will be fine. Everything will be fine."

~!~

William fell asleep quite easily but Sybil couldn't manage the same. Instead she flipped through photos on her phone, recent ones from Mary's wedding but also several more private moments snapshotted so many years ago. There were only a handful of pictures from the past that Sybil held onto. One photograph in particular had Tom laughing into Sybil's shoulder as she attempted to capture them in bed in Dublin. She remembered how alive she felt that weekend, even in that moment, and she craved that now. She could think of these things now with her world still all around her and she was somewhat thankful for William's closed eyes because his inactivity forced her to finally face the truth. With shut eyes Sybil dismissed several falling tears as she thought of what her life would be like without Tom. She had lived that once before and she resolved to never live that again.

When William's pager went off, it was a nudge of Sybil's elbow that had him waking, not the piercing noise. "Will…" Sybil tried, already moving to stand. "Will!" it came again, finally causing him to stir.

"Wha..."

"Tom's awake," Sybil said.

"No he's not," Will laughed, unable to feign sensitivity so soon after a nap. He grabbed for his pager and placed it back to his hip as he moved to sit up. "He's stable and Dr. Frye wants me down there."

"Oh," Sybil said, now with shoulders depressed in defeat.

"You can—"

"Oh, I'm coming," Sybil assured.

William sighed. "I want you to go home and get some sleep."

"And I want to go see Tom so I'm going to go see Tom. I've failed him as a doctor and I won't do that as his girlfriend...as his friend."

"Sybil, Dr. Frye won't—"

"Brief me the way he does with you and Ben? No, he won't but he'll talk to me like he'd talk to any patient's family."

"Sybil, babe, but you're not—"

"I most certainly am!"

"No, you're not!" he tossed back. "You've dismissed this surgery as if you running out cancelled your status as Tom's doctor. It didn't. You're still straddling a very thin line and I don't think it's time for you to choose a side. Not when you're like this."

Sybil's eyes narrowed. "Well whose side are _you_ on?"

"I'm on your side, Sybil! Always! But you're not seeing clearly right now and I don't want you giving up anything, alright? This is salvageable but you need to tread lightly. Don't...I know you love Tom but even he wouldn't want you giving all of this up."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you need to be sensible and hold onto your job. If that means you taking a step back, then so be it. Tom won't—"

"Oh my god," Sybil managed, her voice dripping in distaste. "You don't think...you don't think he's going to wake up."

"I did _not_ say that!"

"Then?"

"Alright, Sybil!" William gave as he brought himself to his feet. "Let's live in the hypothetical then. God forbid Tom's health goes south, what then?"

"I don't...that's not going to happen."

"But what if it does?"

"That's _not_ going to _happen_ ," Sybil reiterated in anger.

"I know you're ready to throw in the towel but as your best friend I can't allow that. I…" He sighed. "Watching you be this happy has been all I have ever wanted for you, Sybil, but I also watched you work your butt off. I _was_ there at Harvard and I _have been_ here for all of your residency. Don't give up everything for him. Tom wouldn't want that. This isn't you and I understand the kind of stress you're under right now but I won't let you give up your career. You have worked too hard. This is one surgery, alright? There will be more. But don't forget who you were before Tom came back, okay? Because at the end of the day, no matter who is or isn't in your life, you need to be the girl I met at Harvard. That girl can do amazing things because she has done amazing things and that girl won't let today define the rest of her life."

"I just—"

"No, Sybil! It's not up for discussion! Tom will be fine and you'll be fine too, okay? He's going to wake up and in the meantime you're going to figure out how to fix this, got it?"

Sybil looked away, crossing her arms before quickly looking back to him. "Why are you being such an arse?"

William smirked. "Because Tom's not here to do it for me."

~!~

The pair made it down to Tom's room. Sybil held onto William the whole way, happy he supported her and made no other comments about the truth she was still struggling to face. Inside several nurses moved about, checking Tom's monitor and the various tubes and lines that extended out from his bed. Sybil pressed a hand to her mouth as she watched, not realizing that another tear had already begun to creep down her cheek. She was brought back to the moment only when the door opened, causing her to step aside. Though she wore scrubs similar to the nurse's, no one seemed to recognize her down here, or if they did they felt too much pity to maintain eye contact. Soon they were all gone, even William who now stood with Ben down the hall waiting for Dr. Frye. It took only a pause for Sybil to enter, so pleased to feel Tom's warm skin beneath her hand she managed to ignore all of the ways his body failed to sustain life on its own. Still Sybil wondered if it ever wouldn't be like this, if it ever wouldn't hurt to feel this much so deeply in whatever state the couple existed in.

Sybil leaned against the bed, first smoothing back at Tom's hairline then just holding his hand tight in her own. His fingers were limp against hers and as she began to calculate the number of days this was likely to be the case, the door behind her opened. Sybil expected to see William, or even Dr. Frye, but it was Emilee followed by the rest of Tom's family.

"The nurses station called...we didn't expect you to," Emilee explained as she put down the flowers and balloon Rory insisted they get for Tom's room.

Sybil stepped back. "I can—"

"Stay, dear," Tom's mother insisted.

"Oh, I—"

"He'd want you here more than he'd want us here," his father added.

"He...I yell at him a lot, you know," Sybil said, trying to laugh. "I loved Ireland and it makes me sad that he doesn't go back anymore."

"He does. Rarely. Only for Christmas and Easter but we understand," Tom's father confirmed. "He was able to reinvent himself away from Kinsale. First in Cambridge and now here in London. We've accepted it and moved on."

"Well I'm sorry if—"

"Sybil, Tom's absence had nothing to do with you. I appreciate the concern but we're happy for him. He has his job and his flat and now he has you."

Sybil looked back to him. Through their discussion she was pulled back to him, her hip pressed closely into his mattress where her arm rested near his pillow. "I kind of let him down," she admitted honestly, now looking at Tom.

"I don't see how that's possible," Emilee gave with a laugh of her own.

"I couldn't make it through the entire surgery. It was too much."

"It meant a lot to him that you agreed to do it. I hardly think he'll mind."

"If he wakes up…" Sybil's voice trailed off, adding to the deafening sound of silence in the room.

"What?"

"If he wakes up," Sybil repeated honestly, as if asking them to believe her. "He may not. His heart may only be good on machines. We don't know."

"Really?"

Sybil swallowed through a nod. "Did they not explain all of this to you?"

"No…" Tom's mother said. "Should they have?"

Emily stood up and took a step toward Sybil and consequently toward her brother. "Why didn't you? Why didn't he?"

"Emilee, there's no need…"

Sybil gave a heavy exhale. "He...he should wake up. I'm not even fathoming that not being an option. But there's a possibility he could not. If his heart isn't strong enough it won't be able to pump blood properly and then he won't be able to circulate oxygen properly and he could suffer extensive brain damage. He could wake up or his body could revolt. I'm hoping for the first one. It's kind of the only option I'm accepting."

Everyone seemed to take a step back. It was all too clear they were not aware, not even slightly and Sybil was already back to aching as she continued to miss Tom, even from such a close proximity.

There were light murmurs as Dr. Frye entered, bringing with him William and Ben. The all-male team had everyone standing. While Tom's family approached, Sybil was slow in her actions and took a step back from Tom's bedside, all without letting go of his hand.

"Sybil, I need you to excuse yourself, please."

"Oh, she can stay," Emilee assured.

"She can't, actually," Dr. Frye began simply, "she's not on Tom's visitor's list."

"You haven't introduced yourself to any of us so how do you know _we're_ on Tom's visitors list?" Rory spat.

"Rory…" Tom's mother admonished.

The teenager shrugged, looking away in defeat. Emilee placed a hand to her daughter's shoulder then flashed Sybil a smirk in preemptive apology.

"I'll...yeah, right," Sybil tried, finally dropping Tom's hand so she could move for the door. She wanted to say more but the silent rationalizations she was going through in her head stopped her from speaking.

Sybil watched from the door, initially pacing back and forth then sitting when the meeting carried on for several minutes. She bit at her thumb, first at the nail then at the skin when the former became too short. Then, when the door opened, she shot up, as if it were her turn to receive her information. William was right though; she existed in a space of nothingness, incapable of claiming a title of doctor or girlfriend while she still attempted at both.

Before she could reenter the room Dr. Frye stopped her with a simple call of her name. Out of respect she stopped, gave a small smile, and remained rooted to the spot upon which she stood, seemingly waiting for further instruction.

Nothing but silence existed between the two. Sybil sighed as if to accept this, but before she could return to Tom's side she gave her mentor all that she could. "Dr. Frye, I'm truly sorry—"

He stepped in to her. Their conversation was hushed but Sybil felt the force in his language. "What you did today, Sybil, was not only stupid but highly unprofessional."

"I didn't—"

"And not just today...these past several months. I should have just pulled you off the case. I should have—"

"He wouldn't have let you operate," she said frankly.

"Alright, then?"

"Exactly. What would you have done then? This condition is rare and most people would rather ride it out than try to fix it. I'm sorry but you wouldn't have had anyone to test this on."

"Am I to be thanking him then?"

"Listen, I stayed because he asked me too!"

"So what is he?"

"He's…" Sybil pressed a hand to her forehead. Up until now she and Dr. Frye had stood on similar ground. Now she felt like a child, like the same teenage girl that once sat in a limousine, explaining a relationship her father clearly already had knowledge of. "God, this is so awkward...Tom's...he's the first man I fell in love with many years ago and we were young and stupid and it just wasn't right and then he came back and we reconnected and now—"

"What?" Dr. Frye fumed. "Is he your boyfriend?"

"Yes…"

"Sybil! Christ!" he yelled. "Do you know how dangerous all of this is? If anyone finds out I allowed this...you could ruin my career!"

As if to reinforce this childish role, Sybil rolled her eyes. "He's going to live and you'll be in textbooks and you'll have your patents and—"

"My reputation is everything, Sybil! You'll understand this someday."

"Someday?" she tossed back. "I'm not a child. I very much understand this. I was sick going into this and I just couldn't stomach it. I'm sorry. You're right, it was unprofessional but I did what I could with what I had. He needed this surgery and I wasn't going to throw away my opportunities, especially if it meant helping him!"

"Did you honestly agree to move forward because of your future? I mean, honestly? Because if that were the case, Sybil...if that was your motivation...you wouldn't have allowed this in the first place."

"It wasn't something to allow!" Sybil screamed. "I couldn't control it. I had no way of knowing it would be Tom. I didn't ask for him now just like I never asked for him then. It happened. _We_ happened. I can't apologize for that. I mean, what does it matter anyway? You have two other assistants! What is your deal? Are you in love with me?"

It was an immature thing to say and even as it fell off of Sybil's tongue she was privy to that fact. Dr. Frye took a moment and Sybil allowed it, as if to retract her statement. When her eyes met his she saw it again: not embarrassment or even in disbelief — disappointment.

"I'm sorry you can't see that people can care about other people beyond love. I was rooting for you, Sybil. I told you that. I have no feelings toward you other than that of a doctor and his student. You are a beautiful girl, but most importantly you are brilliant. You are good at what you do and you can only get better. My anger for all of this has nothing to do with Tom. As your mentor I need to make sure your head's on straight. I need to make sure you're taking all of this seriously because you can be someone in this industry...you can make a name for yourself."

"I...I want that. Or I wanted that. But I don't know if I can have both and I can't lose him...not again. I'm sorry I let you down and I wish it wasn't like this but I just feel so helpless right now. It's how I've felt since this started. There wasn't a right and a wrong choice, it just felt like there were no choices. I don't...I don't know what to say."

"Well I think you can have both. I think he has to want you to have both. He should have let you bow out when you expressed your concern."

"And he would have. Without hesitation." she assured, all before quieting her voice to a whisper. "If that's really what I wanted," she rationalized. "But I didn't. I wanted to make sure he was okay."

"Your job wasn't to save his life, Sybil. Not like that. In the long term, sure, but—"

"I can't give you anymore than I already have. I'm sorry. I mean that and I'll say it a thousand times. I'm sorry I've let you down and I'm sorry I couldn't make it through and I'm sorry if I've wasted these last couple of years. Will's great, you know. Ben too! They're both great."

"But you're better, Sybil," Dr. Frye gave unwaveringly, "And I'm upset to hear you don't think so."

"I know that. And Tom believes that too. He's so supportive and...I can't even think about that right now. I just...imagine you had something you loved and then you lost it. If you had a chance to have it again, would you do anything to risk that?"

"No. I wouldn't. I'd take my wife back in a heartbeat. An actual heartbeat."

Sybil's breath hitched. "Wha...what?"

"I know you all think I have no emotions but I, like the rest of you, am human. But when I was younger I felt too much and I've tried to not let that happen again. It was...it was enough, I guess. I...I married my highschool sweetheart. I know young and stupid all too well, actually. But she was diagnosed with brain cancer and she was gone the same year I graduated medical school. If she came back, I don't know what I'd do. But if I was asked to save her life...I don't think I could do it. I can't deal with that much pressure."

"Well, oncology isn't—" Sybil attempted to reason.

"It doesn't matter, Sybil. There is your work and there is your personal life and unfortunately when you're a doctor, the two cannot mix."

"Well they have. They did. I can't take it back now."

"You need to learn from this."

Sybil made a mental note of Dr. Frye's hesitation, all of him incredibly reluctant to let her go. "You don't have to give me a good recommendation. You don't even have to pass me."

He sighed. "Sybil, you passed long ago. You've always been ahead of these blokes and you know it just as well as they do. But it's these moments that set you apart. It is these moments that work to make you even better and you're right...I'm disappointed. You could have done better."

"Probably," she shrugged. "That's your opinion. I can't change it. But I also think you would have saved her."

"Excuse me?"

"Your wife," Sybil nearly whispered. "You would have saved her and you wouldn't have thought twice."

* * *

Anyone else need a drink? Or maybe a nap? Thoughts?

Thanks for reading, lovelies! Only a few chapters left.

x. Elle


	33. Your Mess is Mine

**A/N** **:** Is anyone still reading? I got two lovely reviews last chapter but it felt like a shout into the void otherwise. Anyway...

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Sybil and Dr. Frye were in quiet agreement that Sybil would not visit Tom when she arrived to the hospital each morning. She was also to stay away from his room during lunch and even on her shorter breaks. Sybil could visit Tom only when she was completely detached from work, when she'd changed out of her scrubs and pulled her hair out of its tight clips. Without all of those things Sybil essentially dissolved into the teenage girl she once was - the woman Tom first fell in love with.

When she arrived back into his room after a quick dinner she did so quietly. Sybil dropped her bag by her feet and sat in the same chair she'd fallen asleep in the previous night after Tom's family had left. His mother and father were staying in a hotel just down the street and they had offered to purchase Sybil a room as well. Rory, in all of her innocence even invited Sybil to join her in the two-bedroom suite she shared with her mother. The gesture had Sybil smiling but she didn't take them up on the offer. Her decision to sleep alone was a conscious one and she planned on making the same choice tonight when her eyes could no longer focus on the inactivity of Tom's fingers or the rising and falling of his chest.

Perhaps it was an attempt to separate herself from the girl she was that morning but Sybil relaxed in the chair next to Tom's bed, kicking her feet up onto the edge of his mattress as she sipped at her latte in silence. Sometimes a nurse would enter but they did so less the longer Sybil lingered. He was, in essence, in the presence of a doctor, one that specialized in the very care he needed. They all agreed to be kind to Sybil but each nurse was equal parts warmed and relieved that Sybil's medical knowledge kept them from interrupting such clearly tense moments.

The silence in the room told all. It typically remained this way until Sybil was done with her tea. When she was she'd finally go to Tom's side. Today she placed a hand to his shoulder, kissing the soft material of his hospital gown, wishing it was his bare skin instead. She willed herself not to cry as she moved even closer, picking up Tom's hand in the process.

"I...if anyone comes in here I'm going to act like I'm not talking to you, alright? Because I've realized that you're my person now...well, my person again I guess," she gave, breathing out a nervous laugh. "I think Will's a bit hurt but it's fine because he knows how much you mean to me. You're the person I want to go to when I'm hurt and when I'm scared and right now you're the reason I'm hurt and scared and I can't even be mad at you because I know you're hurt and scared too."

Sybil gave an unsteady exhale. "I wish you'd been more honest. I know how terrified you were and it broke my heart but I allowed it because I wanted to be as brave as you. I started to believe your lie, you know? Just like I believed Dr. Frye when he'd lie to you. I guess I'm just selfish. I want you healthy and I want my career and I just need everything to go right because for awhile my life felt like a mess. I was doing great at Harvard but I didn't have you and some days you were all I wanted. I remember feeling so out of control. Ungrateful, really." Sybil chuckled. "I'm still ungrateful…I knew we'd be here eventually and I'm still in shock."

"You...you have to wake up, okay? I don't care how long it takes. You're bloody stubborn and I know you love nothing more than to watch me squirm and I'm allowing it only so you can be here and be healthy and we can get on with the rest of this." Sybil's breath hitched in the back of her throat, causing her to pause. "I remember being so impatient then. I wanted to be eighteen so we could be together and then I wanted to be so much older so I could marry you and we could have kids. Then you left and I wanted to go back and live in those early days forever. Remember those Sundays at your loft? I fell in love with you over and over again those mornings."

"It's easy to remember all of that now that I have it back. I love you and I want to always love you but again I need you here so I can show you that okay? Because you haven't even seen the half of it. I...there's so much we have to do. You have to help me babysit Mary and Matthew's baby and we have to go to Baltimore with Will. I want to go back to Ireland and I just want to be there as your girlfriend. For real this time."

"Your mum and dad are coming around to the idea of me. Emilee certainly is, which somehow means more. I'm so in love with you Tom," Sybil whispered, her voice quaking. "But I think there are parts of ourselves we've always kept from one another. I want it all when you wake up. But, I...uh, you may have to support me while I figure this whole job thing out…technically I still have a job but I'm honestly waiting for that to change at any moment. There's an ethics review board…I don't know, maybe I'm being paranoid. Dr. Frye is pissed but I don't think he'd report me. He knew I loved you so I think he's just angry at himself for not taking me off the case."

For the first time that night she shared a genuine smile with the room. "Everyone around here jokes about how I needed a life outside of this place and I finally had one but you weren't who they wanted or maybe just not the person they were expecting…and Dr. Frye's not in love with me, by the way. I made a fool of myself over that too. When you wake up I'll tell you all about it. I was an absolute child and I'm so embarrassed. I'm still embarrassed but I'm not going to let my pride interrupt the fact that this is where I want to be right now. This is where I have to be. I need to be here…"

Behind her the door opened. Sybil looked over her shoulder, and when she saw Mary and Matthew she gave a heavy sigh but did not go to them. She wanted to be in bed beside Tom, but with that not being an option she settled on at least holding his hand. Even with their relationship now known by virtually everyone, Sybil still struggled with not only accepting that fact but acting on it as well.

"Hey," she breathed out.

Mary went to her sister and Matthew followed. Neither moved for a hug, and Mary found words did not come easily as she took in her sister and the man she was currently attached to. "I'm...I'm sorry I didn't call you back," she finally said.

"She's been in bed," Matthew explained.

Sybil's eyes widened. "You okay?"

"Just a random bout of nausea."

"Yeah," Sybil snickered as she turned back to Tom, "I've had that too."

Matthew cleared his throat. "What?"

Sybil laughed again. "Oh, I'm not pregnant. I just ruined my career by not being able to stomach open-heart surgery."

Mary sighed and moved to stand by her sister. "This was more than just open-heart surgery, Sybil. It was brave to think you could even get through it. The mere thought of having to watch Matthew or you or anyone go through that is enough to have me upchucking."

"I think I should have pushed Tom away. All those months ago," she elaborated as she looked back to them. "I should have been detached this whole time and then with everything over we could have reconnected."

Mary's gaze narrowed and she took another step toward her sister, nearly reaching out for her. "Sybil, what have I told you? Saying something aloud doesn't suddenly make it true. You felt what you felt and you waited a long time to get that back again. Do you honestly think you would have been able to stomach this either way?"

"I don't—"

"What if something went wrong?" Matthew asked bluntly.

Sybil swallowed. "Something could still go wrong. Everything _feels_ wrong with him still asleep."

"But what if...what if he didn't make it?" he tossed out bravely. "What then?"

"I don't…"

"He'd know how you felt about him, I assume. But I don't know if you'd forgive yourself for not showing him, which you certainly have."

Sybil sighed and turned to them. "Tom gave me up and pushed me away because he didn't want to ruin any chance I had at success. But I guess I've done that for myself and somehow in doing that I feel like I've let him down. I don't want him to think any of this is his fault. I did what he asked. I made my choices and I chose him."

Mary and Matthew could hear the sorrow in Sybil's voice and they looked to one another in sympathy as if to give her a minute to compose herself. Finally Mary turned back to Sybil. "Darling, you can't honestly think you'll lose your job over this. After everything you've done? I'll admit you've had better moments of clarity but I know how much everyone in this hospital loves you."

"I guess I'm just starting to realize that he might not wake up. Everything was okay...or at least I told myself everything was okay," she shrugged, "because I had my schooling and my job. If he's gone and I have this on my record? I just don't know what I'm going to do."

"Alright well what about when he wakes up and all of this worrying is for nothing?" Matthew propositioned.

Sybil scrunched her nose. "You're certainly playing devil's advocate tonight."

It was Matthew now that went to Sybil and the way in which he pulled her in did not feel out of place to any of them. He felt one tear then many more hit his shirt but he didn't dare let go until he felt that she was ready. Mary stood behind them watching, nearly in tears herself. "It's going to be fine. I really believe that. And in the meantime we're here."

When Matthew stepped back and joined Mary, they both took in Sybil who was still wiping away some tears. "Did you want to stay at our place tonight? It's closer than your flat and—"

"No, I—"

"I hope you're not planning on staying here," Mary reprimanded. "That's just silly, Sybil."

"I'm not staying here. I'm going home. Promise," she confirmed. "But I do want to be here when he wakes up."

Matthew nodded. "Any indication on when that will be?"

"I'm guessing at least another day. I can't...I mean I know it's a little ridiculous to think it's possible but that still doesn't mean it's not what I'd like."

Mary gave her baby sister a sympathetic smile. "Well listen, as Matthew said we are here and we will always be here. Just please take care of yourself, alright? You can't be a mess when he wakes up."

Sybil smirked. "Thanks, Mary."

"Keep us updated, okay? And if you need anything—"

"I know," Sybil accepted. "Thank you." The way in which Sybil smiled, genuinely, and then turned back to Tom told the couple she was ready to be alone again. They respected this, said nothing, and quietly excused themselves.

~!~

Sybil was exhausted and she felt it in her bones. She was certainly used to long shifts leading to sleepless nights but the state of her heart and mind had all of her body feeling as if it were on overdrive. It didn't help that she'd chosen to walk all the way to Tom's flat or that she wore a heavy duffel bag on her shoulder and carried in her hands a large box. Both items made inserting her key and pushing into Tom's apartment a loud and clumsy task.

Save a single light coming out of a room on the second floor, the foyer chandelier was off, casting most of the flat in darkness. Sybil quickly moved to bump the switch with her elbow and as she turned around a figure appeared in the shadow at the top of the stairs.

"Helping me move out?" Emilee joked.

Sybil smirked. "Uh, moving in, actually," she said, all before dropping her things on a nearby table. "But I can—"

"Please," Emilee began, "don't you dare think of helping me. My parents hired movers. I'm just trying to organize all of this...Tom was always the tidier sibling."

"I'm going to guess that wasn't always the case."

"He had his phases but he's always been a bit more put together. One of us had to be," she kidded.

Sybil smiled again. The women met at the top of the stairs and when Sybil collapsed into a sitting position, she was not at all surprised to find Emilee taking a seat beside her. "I hope you're not moving out because of me."

"Well considering last time I asked, Tom said you still hadn't committed to moving in, I can confirm that's not the case."

Sybil looked to Emilee to share a sweet smile. "He says your flat is nice. Close by too."

"It is," Emilee chuckled. "Mum's helping to decorate. I wanted to live in a shithole but they wouldn't allow it."

"And they shouldn't. You deserve a nice flat and you deserve some space of your own."

"I've never lived without Rory. That'll take some getting used to."

"Yeah but it'll be good for the both of you. And it's not forever."

"Did you tell him then?"

The shift in conversation had Sybil looking to Emilee. "What?"

"This morning. You told him you'd move in?"

"Oh, uh, no," Sybil laughed, pushing a stray curl behind her ear. "Hardly. He...he has no idea. So I hope it's okay—"

"Okay that your stuff is here because you're here everyday anyway? Yeah, I'm sure he won't mind," she jested.

Sybil smiled too. "You think we're crazy, don't you?"

"I thought you were crazy then. Now I know you're crazy," Emilee deadpanned.

Sybil giggled. "We are crazy. You're right."

"It's an okay kind of crazy. You certainly fit in with our family. My parents adore you."

Sybil paused. "Really?"

"Absolutely. My mum wouldn't shut up at dinner tonight. You'd think you two just met."

She gave a heavy sigh. "In a way I guess we have. A lot has changed."

"Maybe. But a lot is the same. You and Tom are the same. He is still absolutely smitten with you. I didn't think it could get worse but it has. You've done what I didn't think any girl ever would...you've stolen his heart. That means a lot to me."

Sybil nodded, willing a tear not to fall. "Your happiness—"

"I know," Emilee nodded. "And it'll happen. Maybe it's payback for all of the hell I gave him all those years ago."

"Or life just sucks. And I'm sorry that it does. I lived that for a few years and it was awful."

"Well I'm glad you got your break then."

"It's going to get better, Emilee. I know it will."

"We're not talking about me," she laughed. "Tom's happy and that's important to me. Hopefully he'll be healthy now too and—"

"I'm worried he's not going to wake up…" Sybil gave blankly. All she had been holding back pricked at her eyes before slowly greeting her cheeks in warm wetness.

Emilee nearly cried too. "Is that how it looks?"

"No. It looks good. But I can't stop thinking about it. Life sucks but it was getting better and I don't want to go back there again. I can and he'd want me to, but that doesn't mean I want to and I can't pretend that's not the case just because everyone else thinks it makes me look weak. He makes me very, very happy and I can't lose that. I know that's pathetic but I can't."

"If he was here he'd laugh at you."

"What?" Sybil blinked.

"Well he would. He...he's a fucking wanker but he always thought you'd come back. Even knowing he didn't deserve that...even knowing how insane he sounded...he always knew he'd see you again. I think if he could believe in that you can hold on for a few more hours while he's a stubborn arsehole and takes his time waking up."

Sybil grinned. "Thank you…"

Emilee wrapped an arm around Sybil and allowed the brunette to drop her head down to her shoulder. "He's important to me. He's saved my life...so many times...and I can't begin to tell you how thankful I am for all he's done for Rory. Tom's a really, really selfless person and I found that when I got over my own shit, it's really easy to love the people that love him."

~!~

Sybil helped Emilee take the last of her things out to her car. Despite knowing they'd see each other soon the two hugged as if that were not the case. It was likely Emilee was acknowledging that she was heading back to a hotel with her family, leaving Sybil to spend the night alone. There was comfort in the solidarity and as Sybil locked Tom's flat and turned on the alarm she trudged up to his room and started the slow attempt at claiming it as her own.

Several of her things had already taken up residence in Tom's closet, but she added others, with most of the contents of the duffle bag fitting nicely in the space Tom had cleared for her weeks ago. His bathroom sink was littered with Sybil's things, and Sybil added a few more most notably her favorite shampoo and conditioner. As she pulled the shower curtain back she smirked to think of the way she'd used Tom's things, dousing her skin with the scent of him, only to mask it later with a simple spritz of perfume. She felt this all too well when upon showering she continued to reach for his items. Sybil assumed that by the time he was home she'd feel comfortable enough to return to her usual habits. Already though she was missing his touch, a truth made all the more apparent when she turned down the lights and approached Tom's bed — their bed.

She wore far more clothing than she was accustomed too - one of Tom's Cambridge jumpers covered her upper half while her legs swam in a pair of her own sweatpants. It was nearly June but all of her felt cold, especially with her wet hair piled atop her head. Tom was not here to comment on the curls ability to wet their bed sheets, nor was he here to keep her warm. His absence found Sybil gripping tightly at the duvet as she pulled the items up around her shoulders. The bridge of her nose creased as she realized this was the first time she'd slept in this bed without him beside her. Even on the night of her birthday she felt the way Tom wrapped a lazy arm around her and the way she innocently held onto his fingertips as if willing him not to let go.

Her emotions were blamed on drunkenness then but now Sybil felt all too sober. Her skin felt cool to the touch, something that became more clear when she reached out for one of his pillows and did not find him there. Again she was thinking of him back at the hospital and how all she wanted to do was get into bed with him if so she could lay her head on his chest. She needed that right now — the beating of his heart to tell her everything would be alright.

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Thanks for reading! Only two more chapters, I believe! Any predictions for how it ends?

x. Elle


	34. In Another Life

**A/N** **:** I'M SORRYYY! I don't know who I have become but the length between these chapters is so ridiculous and the old me would be so disappointed! But the new me is tired and traveling and doesn't have large chunks of time to set aside and write. So anyway! Here we go!

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Sybil never realized just how much she used her phone throughout the day. Through her morning rounds and Tom's classes, the two still managed to text and on days when they couldn't have lunch together, Sybil would give him a quick call before trying to sneak a nap in the breakroom. Now with Tom asleep, she was silently acknowledging he was primarily to blame for her reliance on the device. Looking back it was almost laughable to think the two were not found out sooner.

Gwen texted Sybil often, as did her mother. Mary was mostly absent, a fact Sybil contributed to her sister's impending due date. Matthew knew better than to ask if she was okay and her father spoke to her as if there were no other option. Robert was admittedly happy to see his daughter so in love but would always be cautious of how strongly Sybil displayed her feelings for Tom, even when the two were attempting to keep their relationship a secret. Robert was perhaps Sybil's biggest advocate and he existed to always remind her that for as wonderful of a girlfriend, sister, and even daughter she could be, her role as a doctor was also an important one.

It was for this reason that Sybil found herself rarely leaving the hospital. She was now working longer hours than she once had, taking breaks only to shower or eat. In the early mornings between two and four, Sybil would leave her bunk to go see Tom. On one occasion she'd even sat on the bed with him, her exhaustion eventually causing her head to fall to his lap where she gained only minutes of slumber before the real world thrust her back into consciousness. Tom's room felt quieter after midnight and somehow it was there she was able to think. Sybil thought of her upcoming completion ceremony and how she'd soon be an aunt to a beautiful baby boy. She also considered the very real option that Tom would not wake up and she carefully pondered the life she'd have should that be the case.

"Are you avoiding me?"

Sybil looked up from the cup of tea she was stirring. The action had her eyes trained on the floor, but she spun as the person walked past her. "Uh, what?" she tossed back, now standing still.

"You're avoiding me, right?" Dr. Frye inquired.

"Wrong."

He nearly scoffed. "Then?"

Sybil shrugged. "I'm not in morning meetings anymore and I've been busy so..."

"Busier than you usually are?" He took a step toward her. "Too busy to take a break with me?"

Sybil sighed and followed suit, countering Dr. Frye's movement so the two could begin to walk down the hall. "I'm sorry I just...I didn't think you wanted to talk to me."

"No?"

"I think there was enough honesty in our last conversation to last us a lifetime."

"Well I wanted to thank you," Dr. Frye tried, clearly uncomfortably.

"Me?"

"Yes you. I went to visit my wife yesterday."

"Oh, I—"

"I haven't been to the cemetery in ages," he explained.

Sybil nodded. "How was that?"

"I cried like a baby."

Sybil rolled her lips inward in sympathy. "I'm sorry."

"I said thank you, didn't I?"

"Well it's not fair that...you didn't have to tell me those things," Sybil reasoned.

"Are you upset that I did?"

"Nooo," Sybil rolled. "I think _you're_ upset that you did."

"Well I'm not," Dr. Frye gave plainly. "And you haven't told anyone else which is remarkable."

"Did you think I would?" There was offense in Sybil's voice,

"I didn't think you wouldn't. You're pretty popular around here, Sybil. Honestly I'm surprised you and Tom were able to keep things a secret for so long."

"Well you didn't tell anyone my secret. I mean, no one really knows."

"The boys haven't said much," Dr. Frye rationalized as if to avoid taking credit.

"Yeah but you haven't either," Sybil stated with steadfast. "And you have that right."

"To start rumors?"

"No to tell the truth and write me up."

He sighed. "I don't want to write you up, Sybil."

"Why? You should—"

"Are you telling me how to do my job?"

"No, I'm—"

"Well I'm your superior and I know what I'm doing and right now I'm asking you to please stop talking so I can finish."

Sybil looked down. "Sorry."

"Once Tom wakes up I'm calling a colleague in Prague. He has a similar case and thinks this method might work. I'm taking you with me."

Sybil's mouth fell open but no sound followed. Finally: "Oh…"

"Did you not think he'd wake up?"

"What?" She was offended again, or at least trying to be. "No, I—"

"Why did you tell Philip you'd go out with him?"

It was Sybil's turn to laugh. "I'd hardly say I was of sound mind that day. Certainly not because I actually wanted to go out with him."

"It was slightly convincing but mostly because you made his day and the rest of us knew it was a load of bollocks. I'm amused...it was amusing."

"I didn't know what to say, really. You were all staring at me." Dr. Frye let out a snort of laughter. Sybil smirked in response. "You're having fun with this aren't you?"

"A bit. Is that okay?"

She returned her attention to her now cooling tea. "Yeah...I mean, I don't have much of a choice. I guess _that's_ amusing to _me_. For the first year and a half I worked with you I was certain you didn't have a personality. Then I realized you do have a personality and it's probably not a bad one you just don't want to share it with anyone else."

"It's a personal choice."

"Isn't it boring?"

"To keep to myself? No. I love my job. It lets me focus on what I'm passionate about."

Sybil's gaze narrowed. "Is that a criticism?"

"No," Dr. Frye stated with a chuckle. "Now that this has happened you've been more focused than usual...more focused than you were before Tom came along which is saying a lot. Considering your future hangs in the balance I'd say you love your job too."

"I do."

"I know that," he tried, almost in reassurance. "So I'm not going to write you up. I wouldn't do that. Again I'll say that this was an extremely stupid, careless thing to do but I know if I punish you I wouldn't be happy with that decision either."

"Um...wow...alright. Thank you," Sybil practically whispered.

"Don't mention it."

Sybil inhaled, grasping for emotional energy. "And thank you for…"

"He's going to be fine," Dr. Frye responded, answering a question Sybil would never be brave enough to ask.

"I know that."

"Do you?"

"I lived…" Her voice trailed off. "Nevermind."

"No let's hear it because I for one am curious."

"I was just going to say that I've lived without Tom before and I could do it again if I had to."

Dr. Frye could only grin. "Do you really believe that?"

"Well I have to."

"Do you?"

Sybil scrunched her nose upward in annoyance. "Yes, I could. I have before and I can again."

He was still smiling. "It's okay to have a life outside of this place, Sybil," he reasoned. "Actually, it's encouraged. And you shouldn't feel bad for it. It's okay to lose yourself in it once in awhile and it's nice to have a career that allows you to do that but it's also nice to be able to leave this place and think about something else. I had to remind myself of that after my wife passed."

"Are you telling me this to prepare me for when Tom passes?"

"You really have no faith in me, do you?"

"No, I'm just a control freak and I wasn't there for the entire surgery so my confidence in it all is weak at best."

Dr. Frye pressed his hand to his chest and let out a belly laugh, nearly tossing his head back in the process. "How did you two meet?" Instantly the two were walking again.

Sybil looked to him. "Are you distracting me?"

"Perhaps."

Sybil's face flushed as she turned back to the contents of her cup. "You don't want to know."

"I do, actually."

Sybil sighed, ready to accept the impending criticism, or at the very least, a massive amount of jest. "At a uni party."

"Harvard?"

"Cambridge," she corrected simply. "I was 16."

"Bloody hell."

"Tom didn't know that. Because I didn't tell him."

"Of course not."

Sybil couldn't quite decipher Dr. Frye's attitude toward all of this but she persevered all the same. This was a story she actually enjoyed telling and she was upset that so few people knew the truth. "We were friends for a bit. I mean, we were still friends even after we started dating. He's...he's my best friend and I really need him to wake up because that's the part of him I can't lose."

"He's going to wake up."

"Yeah, I know. I'd just like it sooner than it's happening."

"So does William know he's been replaced?" Dr. Frye asked. It was a clear attempt at distracting her but Sybil smiled anyway, relieved to have it.

"He hasn't been replaced."

"Did he go to your sisters wedding?"

"William or Tom?"

Dr. Frye nearly stopped walking as if to ask Sybil to be realistic. She giggled before giving her response. "He did…" Before Dr. Frye could speak, Sybil was already defending herself. "You know I fought this for so long. I really did. You don't have to believe me but it's the truth."

"I believe you."

"You don't look like you believe me."

"No, I do because I know you're smarter than all of this. That's why I was disappointed. Am disappointed," he soon corrected. "So why did you break up?"

Sybil sighed. "Because I was going to Harvard."

"Was he devastated?"

"Well he broke up with me," Sybil admitted with a nervous laugh. "But yeah, he was."

"Wow. That's a rubbish going away present."

"Well he wanted me to do well and I did."

"Do you not think you would have if he had stuck around?"

"I know I wouldn't have," Sybil assured, this time without shame. Immediately after her disposition changed. "Look at me now. I just messed up something I've worked really, really hard for."

"I wouldn't blame Tom for that."

"Neither would I. This is all my doing and I'm just wondering how to tell him."

"Do you think he's going to be disappointed?"

"With himself, sure."

"You two take everything very personally," Dr. Frye observed.

"I'm...we're...he's my best friend."

"How are you going to work that one out?"

"What?"

"Well I haven't told anyone but you can't keep it a secret forever. I mean, I imagine you want children."

"Yeah and if my parents have any say, a wedding too. Hopefully before the children."

"Oh?"

"You'll be invited. Whenever it is."

Dr. Frye chuckled. "Okay."

"I...I don't know how to do all of this."

"This?"

"Having both, I guess. You're right, you know. This was my escape and then Tom came and he was a part of this world. Soon he won't be and I need to learn to juggle that. But I want those things...the marriage and the family, but it's really going to put all of this on hold for me."

"Is it? Says who?"

"Not the marriage I guess. But the kids, definitely."

"A few weeks, maybe," Dr. Frye rationalized with a minor shrug. "But it'll hardly derail everything. You've already made a colossal mistake and you're already recovering—"

"Hey!"

"You've made it this far. You'll figure out the rest."

Sybil didn't realize she was beaming until she began to come down from her smile causing her cheeks to relax. "Do you ever want to remarry?"

"Uh…"

"Sorry," she gave with a shake of her head. "I shouldn't have asked that."

"No, it's fine. I guess I do. Maybe someday."

"Do you want a family?"

"Perhaps."

"You have to put yourself out there."

"Like you did? Weren't you single for seven odd years or so?"

"Bite your tongue!" Sybil admonished playfully. "Tom has this sister and—"

"Emilee? I know."

"What? How?"

"I've been working with Tom for almost two years now. He knows about my wife. I know about his sister. We've talked."

"Talked?"

"He never brought you up. Obviously."

"I'm sorry, I just...did you two grab a pint or…"

"No. Never. But he's a good bloke, Sybil. I could do without his relentless sarcasm but I know he's bright and I know he has a good heart. When you offer to cut someone's chest open and fix them, and they let you, naturally you start to know that person."

"Well he thought you were in love with me."

"Everyone did."

"It was flattering, I guess. I've kind of rejected male attention for a bit...but I'm sorry if I acted like a child. I mean that. I know I need to separate my work and my personal life and up until this point I really had."

"I thought you didn't have a personal life?" he teased.

Sybil stopped walking. If it weren't for the cup in her hand she would have tossed down her arms in impatient protest. "Why are you being so nice?"

Dr. Frye could only smile. "Maybe you're not the only one that's capable of forgiveness." His demeanor only changed when his pager went off, causing the pair to separate.

Sybil was thankful for the interruption and used the moment to toss aside the tea she only now decided she did not want. As she moved back to him she sized up his reaction. "What is it?"

He looked up. "Oh, I think Tom's awake," he stated plainly.

Sybil blinked. "What?"

"The nurses paged me. If it was an emergency I would have gotten a call or someone would have come to get me."

"He…" She looked away and then back again. "Oh."

Dr. Frye began to move but was stopped only when he realized Sybil was not following. "Well are you coming?"

She swallowed hard. "Can I?"

"I have some tests I need to run. I need to take some blood work and ask him a few questions. I'd ask you to wait out in the hallway until I was done. But yes, you can come."

"You'll let me see him? During work hours?" she asked, still in disbelief.

"Yes, Sybil, I'll allow it."

"Yeah...great," she gave, finally exhaling. She began to follow her supervisor toward the lift. "Thank you."

Silence enveloped them as they stood side by side, especially as the doors slid slowly shut and the room jolted. The motion had Sybil remembering the first time she saw one of Dr. Frye's more human qualities. He had made a joke about the cardiology team relying on the lift when they constantly preached about the importance of exercise to the patients they treated. When Sybil and her male counterparts seemed offended, possibly even ready to apologize, he merely laughed, all before admitting he didn't even know where most of the staircases were in that wing of the hospital. Then, in a way he often did, Dr. Frye stepped off the lift leaving his team to just stare at one another in disbelief. Sybil remembered being bothered and slightly mystified by the interaction for the rest of that day.

That was over three years ago. Tom wasn't in her life then but those moments still meant something and she had many like them where she made memories, no matter how senseless, despite his absence. It all brought her back to the very real reality, the same truth she'd been grappling with for several months now. Sybil could and would live without Tom if that was what was required but she didn't want to and now she was of age and sound mind to make that choice and have it matter. It was also comforting now for her to think that she'd soon see the man who had helped her admit all of that, only because he was admitting it too.

Dr. Frye looked to Sybil, then back to the changing numbers by the door. He felt her excitement, all of it downplayed by the way her arms hugged her petite form as if to keep her emotions close. "Don't cry," he almost laughed. "Have a little faith in me, alright? I said it was dangerous, not impossible. But I knew it'd work and it has." He paused. "He's going to be fine."

* * *

I think last chapter I said two chapters left? Now I think there's two chapters left but it depends on how long it takes me to write. This was originally meant to be part one of a two part chapter but I wanted to get something posted so…

I'm just the worst, I know.

Reviews last chapter were wonderful! Thank you guys! I'm seriously not worthy. But do it again because they do always encourage me to get a jumpstart on the next chapter?

x. Elle


	35. Fall or Fly

Tom blinked. The snapshots he took of the room before him were mostly duplicates; his hospital room was standard, perhaps even more so considering his stay was marked mostly by unconsciousness. His phone was nowhere to be found and only a single cup of water stood on a nearby tray. He was hooked up to several machines but he heard nothing. He just continued to blink, waiting for the door to open or for his mind to convince him that maybe this was all still part of his slumber.

Tom was brought out of his reverie when Dr. Frye walked in, bringing William and Ben with him. Though he was not aware, Tom made a face at the pair, almost as if to inquire about Sybil's whereabouts. Both men were eerily stoic, only causing Tom's posture to stiffen just as Dr. Frye was getting ready to exhale before sharing his thoughts.

"How are you feeling?" he tried simply.

Tom nodded. "Gooooodddd," his voice dragged skeptically. "How many days was I out?"

Dr. Frye chuckled inwardly. "Four."

"Just four?"

He nodded. "Just four."

"And I'm alive, so that means it worked, right?"

"For now."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Well I'm not dead. As far as I'm concerned, it's a good day."

"It is," Dr. Frye agreed, all before approaching. Tom could only watch him, his eyes momentarily taking in the time on Dr. Frye's watch.

Tom was so distracted by Sybil's absence that he barely realized Dr. Frye had shifted to listen to his heart and was already grabbing for his wrist to check his pulse. Every moment without her had him increasingly unnerved. His eyes danced from Dr. Frye to his interns, then to the door once more. This hospital was always so noisy and now he felt as if he and the other occupants of this room existed in a vacuum untouched by time and sound.

"So I think—"

"Wait, what?" Tom asked, cutting the doctor off. Both Ben and William shifted to compensate for the apparent tension.

Dr. Frye stood back. "What?"

"There...I mean...aren't you going to wait for Sybil?"

Dr. Frye scoffed out a laugh. "No, I am not going to wait for Sybil."

Tom nodded. "Oh...okay."

"As I was saying, your blood pressure is good, far better than I thought it would be and—"

"Why?" Tom coughed out.

Again, Dr. Frye was smiling. "Why?"

Tom blinked, dismissing his irritation and asking that his mind slow down long enough for him to articulate his thought with tact. "Why aren't we waiting for Sybil?"

This time William and Ben joined Dr. Frye in his snickering. "I think that'd be a question you can discuss with Sybil."

"So she's okay?"

"Of course she's okay," he laughed once more.

Tom looked to the window and then back again. "Grand."

Dr. Frye sighed. "Despite your shit attitude your vitals are all in order. This is a good start."

"How long do I have to stay here?"

"I want you here for at least a week. I think a few days might be enough but I don't want to send you home just in case anything does go awry. I need you close to an OR."

Tom rolled his eyes again. "That's reassuring." His attention shifted. "Do you know where my cell phone is?"

"I imagine it's with your other things."

Tom paused. When no one moved he cocked his head as if to criticize their inactivity. "Can someone do me a favor and get it or can I—" Boldly Tom moved to sit up, even going as far as to pull for the sheets bunched at his waist. Dr. Frye was not bothered but Ben was already moving, going to the nearby closet to obtain Tom's phone. He tossed the device toward Tom in a sort of peace offering. Even through his irritation Tom grinned in appreciation before clicking to turn the electronic on. "Cheers."

All the while William's eyes darted in a pattern that began with Tom, moved to Dr. Frye, and ended at the door before starting over again. Tom's arrogance was always somewhat amusing but he'd grown to appreciate his dark sense of humor, especially as he saw his own best friend break through his calloused exterior. It was reasonable for him to be confused by Dr. Frye's dismissal of Sybil, but with their secret out and Sybil's job still intact, William also acknowledged the fairness in Dr. Frye's jesting. Mostly though he was exceedingly overwhelmed by his elation at seeing Tom awake. Dealing with Sybil these past couple of days was more than unnerving; her mood shifted from devastation to numbness far too quickly and now he wondered how she'd be when she was finally reunited with Tom.

"Well again your family has been called and it's my impression that they're on their way. I'll send a nurse in with a menu soon so you can order something for yourself. Can you think of anything else I haven't covered?"

"No," Tom gave blankly before turning back to his phone. He couldn't ask for Sybil so his best option was to text her and hope she'd respond but even that was a task best performed when the room was empty. He pretended to check his emails until the team was at the door and only when he was certain they were gone did he go into his text messages and quickly pen a response. He was barely aware of the message when a voice had him looking up.

"How are you feeling?" it asked softly.

Tom's eyes narrowed but the pain he felt in his chest was somewhat comforting. "Hey," he nearly whispered.

Sybil nodded as if to confirm her presence. "Hi." A breathy giggle followed as she turned to close the door, an action that hid the moisture pooling in her eyes.

Tom was so mystified he didn't hear the click that sounded out when Sybil locked the door. The last time they were alone they were back at his flat and he, while trying to keep her calm, was secretly confronting the very real truth of his plausible mortality.

With the door shut Sybil went to him and she laughed again as she cupped his face after smoothing back at his hairline. "Hey," she said again, and this time when a bubble of laughter escaped her throat so too did several tears.

"Syb…" Tom was upset he couldn't go to her.

"You're alive," she said lightheartedly.

Even Tom had to smirk. "Aye."

"I…I'm sorry, Tom."

Tom's brow furrowed. "For what?"

"I didn't...I wasn't there."

"Where?"

"With you," she continued to try. "I felt like I was going to pass out and then I kept trying to breathe and that helped but then I was nauseous and—"

"Syb?"

"I lost it, Tom."

"Lost it?" his voice almost cracked. "Lost what?" Then: "Lost who?" His eyes grew wide.

"No...during your operation."

"What do you mean?"

"I left...I couldn't do it so I ran out. Upchucked in the hallway too."

Tom grinned. "Yeah?"

"This isn't funny!" Sybil deflected.

"Well are you alright?"

"I'm fine! I just wasn't there and I wanted to be there and—"

A look of panic overcame Tom's features. "Do you still have a job?"

Sybil looked down to her scrubs as if to give an answer. "Yeah, I have a job."

"Here? You still have your job here?"

"Yeah, here."

"So you feel fine now and you still have a job?"

Sybil's gaze narrowed. She was equal parts confused and annoyed. "Yes, Tom."

"Grand."

"What?"

"What?" he returned with confusion.

Sybil's eyes narrowed. "You're not angry?"

"Uhhh, I'm awake and my heart seems to still be functioning and you're here...not very angry right now."

"I feel like I let you down."

"How? If anything you let yourself down. This was supposed to be a big thing for you."

"Well there's no need to blame yourself. We couldn't control this, Tom. And they'll be other surgeries and they'll be better because it won't be your heart I'm cutting open."

Tom chuckled. "Did we honestly think this was going to work? Well, obviously we did and that was insane but it's okay because I'm here and you're here and—"

"And everyone knows."

Tom swallowed. "What?"

"I've performed open heart surgery before, Tom. To say that this is the first time I've gotten sick is a gross understatement and—"

"Who is _everyone_ then?"

"Dr. Frye. The boys...well, Ben," Sybil settled, "because William already knew, of course."

"That's it?"

"I'm sure other people will catch on if they haven't already. I've spent most of my nights here."

"With me? Yeah?"

"Hospital chairs are not comfortable so I am exhausted and I know I look a fright."

Tom reached out for her, dropping her hand so he could place his grip to her hip. "Hardly."

Sybil beamed. His touch gave her confidence and quickly she was leaning into him, her eyes closed, trusting his lips would find hers with ease. Neither cared that Tom needed a shower or that Sybil was crying again, still so happy to have him near. When they broke away she dropped her forehead down to his, wanting instead to place her head on his shoulder or even climb in bed with him so they could have a nap.

"Dr. Frye said a nurse was coming in with a menu so are you that nurse or..." Tom asked, breaking the moment with a joke.

Sybil stood back with wide eyes. "Nurse? Excuse me?"

"The menu was the important part of that sentence. I'm feckin' starved."

"I can get you a menu but I'll warn you that you won't want much of what is on it."

"What? Why?"

"Low sugar. Low fat. Low sodium."

"Water?"

"You can have water. And a salad. No dressing. Maybe some fruit."

"Those are snacks. I want a meal."

"Well pity for you."

"Really?" he chuckled. "You won't sneak me some food?"

"Really!" she tossed back easily. "I may not be your doctor but I am a doctor and I'm not going to do anything that could jeopardize your health. Play along so you can get out of here, alright?"

Tom quirked an eyebrow. "Are you going to take care of me?"

"I'll always take care of you, perv."

Tom cackled. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm so sure."

The moment was still again. When both shifted to reconnect they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Sybil paused, looking to the door then back to Tom. "Should I get it?"

"Well did you want me to, or..."

She rolled her eyes heavenward as she moved toward the exit. "Maybe it's your menu." But as she opened the door she was happy to see she was sharing her smile with Tom's family, all of them just as relieved to see her. Their energy quickly filled the room with Tom's mother immediately going to her son to assess his condition. In an attempt to counter her mother's affection, Emilee went to her brother and punched his shoulder, sparing no force and giving no apology even as she walked away.

Sybil stood back, just watching their interactions with her arms crossed gently over her chest. Immediately his mind was back to her and he extended his hand out to her, wasting no time pulling her in and even kissing her cheek when she was close enough.

"Glad to see you're awake," Tom's father commented casually.

"You all thought I was going to die, didn't ya?"

Emilee smirked. "Kind of."

"Emilee," their mother scolded before turning back to her son. "It was a possibility and we were trying to be realistic."

"Well sorry to disappoint," Tom joked.

"How do you feel?" Tom's father asked.

"Not bad," he asked. "My legs are sore."

"You might need physical therapy for those…" Sybil nearly whispered.

Tom looked to his girlfriend with a raised brow. "Excuse me?"

"Alright, maybe not...I mean, people have before but either way you're going to feel weak for a bit."

Tom sighed before turning back to his family. "I just want everything to go back to normal now."

Emilee rolled her eyes. "You're alive, Tom. Can't you be happy with that?"

"I just don't want the attention."

"You?" Sybil inquired. "You don't want the attention?"

Tom looked to her but already everyone was laughing, happy there was finally someone capable of calling Tom out in a way that actually had him listening. But as the laughter died down, Tom's parents silently nodded toward the fact that this was likely always the case and their once harsh opinions surely did nothing to encourage such behavior.

Sybil separated from Tom, causing his smile to falter in confusion. "I'm going to go."

"Syb, no—"

"I have to. I'm still on the clock. But tell me what you want to eat and I'll put that in for you."

Tom was practically frowning. He was so distracted he didn't realize how their shared moment had everyone else intently watching them interact. "What time are you off?"

"Seven. I'll go home to shower and then be back."

"Are you going to spend the night with me?"

Sybil smirked. Her voice diminished in volume as she felt the way everyone was staring. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"I would but this bed is hardly big enough for me so I wouldn't ask that of you."

"Well trust me, if that weren't the case I would certainly spend the night here."

"I'll break out of here," Tom promised. "Don't tempt me."

Sybil chuckled. "I'm sure you would. But I'll see you later, okay?"

Tom nodded. Without warning the two shared a kiss and even Tom's eyes remained closed for longer than was expected, both still so lost in the sensation of him being awake and stable and here. Only when she was out the door and Tom's mind was finally beginning to travel back to everyone else in the room did he realize it was the first time his family had truly seen he and Sybil in their purest state and he was thankful he no longer had to make excuses or apologize for it.

~!~

"I have to tell you something."

Tom looked up from his cup of yogurt. The attentive way he scraped at the sides of the container with his spoon was forfeited when Sybil broke the silence from her place at the end of his bed. "Oh yeah?"

"Do you remember Phillip?"

"Nope," Tom gave casually, already knowing where this was going.

"He's the anesthesiologist Will and I were talking about at Mary's wedding. He—"

"Alright so he's a doctor. What of him?"

"Well he put you under," Sybil continued to explain.

Tom nodded slowly. "And?"

"He asked me out."

Tom chuckled. "Okay."

"And I said yes."

Tom continued to laugh. "Alright."

Sybil's gaze thinned. "What?"

"Well, I mean, are you going to go out with him?"

"What? No!" she assured.

"Then what's the problem?"

"Well I don't want anyone starting any rumors. He's been trying to get me to go out with him since I graduated and Dr. Frye was staring and I said yes because I just wanted them all to go away. Him included."

"So I was knocked out and he took the opportunity to ask you out?"

"Well he hardly knew we were dating."

"Still a low blow."

"I'm going to have to tell him no and I just wanted to ask if it was okay that I tell him why."

Tom paused, studying Sybil's features and the way she looked down, avoiding his stare. "You want to tell him about us?" Then: "You want to tell anyone about us? Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Well they're going to know eventually."

He grinned. "Eventually?"

Sybil pushed at Tom's knee. "I'm not going to stroke your ego and tell you that I don't plan on going anywhere. You know how I feel about you, Tom, and I plan to make my career in this hospital and then maybe beyond. I'm going to be something in this field and I can't keep you hidden forever."

"Well that's my point," Tom reasoned. "I don't want your career marked by our relationship. Like 'Oh, she's great but she'd be better if she hadn't fallen in love with her patient that one time'...I don't want you discredited."

"I don't want that either but I need to start balancing all of this. There's you and this job and both make me very happy. I can't hide a wedding or children or—"

"Listen Syb, do whatever you want, okay? I'll support you no matter what. I just think it'd be just as productive to tell him you're not interested and move on. I can be introduced a little later on."

"I'm not ashamed of you," she insisted.

Tom chuckled. "I get that. And once upon a time I was hiding you away and it wasn't because I was ashamed of you either I just wanted to protect you from it all. Selfishly, I guess, I didn't want to be criticized for dating someone so young. I'd understand if you wanted to have your turn to be selfish. I'm not going to be offended if we keep this a secret for just a bit longer."

She looked to him earnestly, her heart beating fast while her eyes begged him to believe her. "I'm done keeping this a secret. I'm done keeping _us_ a secret."

All at once Tom understood and he forced a smile, almost in apology, to tell her so. "Me too."

~!~

The way Tom flung open the door to his flat had Sybil rolling her eyes. He was beyond excited to be coming home and he made no apology for the dramatic way he moved, first from the hospital and into his car, then all the way to his flat. Inside he breathed in the air, noticing it wasn't as stale as he was anticipating.

"Something's different."

Sybil smirked and nudged at him so she too could step inside. "Yeah, your sister and Rory are gone."

He looked back to her, speaking matter-of-factly. "I really wish they had waited for me. I could have helped." Tom was already heading up the stairs. Sybil scampered after him, grabbing for the duffel bag he carried so she could carry it to his room.

"I'm not a cripple," he commented childishly.

"No, but you're home now and I want you to stay home. The more you follow the rules the less likely you are to end up back in the hospital."

"Can't you just take care of me?" Tom whined.

"I'm not a miracle worker."

Tom pushed at his bedroom door and when he heard Sybil drop his bag, he turned back to her but only so he could grab her hands and pull her toward the bed. She giggled, even laughing into the kiss he placed to the corner of her mouth. Tom was smiling too, his hands gripping her hips in a way that had her perfectly settled in the space between his legs. "Do we have to follow all the rules?"

Sybil raised her eyebrows in challenge. "Yes. All rules," she said sternly. "No sex." Tom pouted, only causing Sybil to chuckle. "You made it nearly two months before I even let you kiss me again," she added. "I think you'll last this month or so."

"Month?"

"Yes, month."

Tom sighed and moved to kiss Sybil's hands, dropping them as she naturally stepped away, allowing him to further explore his room. "Something else is different…" he observed. He went to the bathroom, expecting to see it remodeled or even painted. It was just as white as it always had been, and he felt the cool breeze blow in through the window as he shut the door and padded toward his closet. "What is—" His voice was lost in his throat. "You brought some things over?" he asked with a voice that shook.

Sybil beamed. "No."

"Well—"

"I brought _all_ of my things over. I...it's okay you weren't here to help Emilee and Rory because I was and I did. Your parents did. And my parents too…"

Tom's gaze narrowed. "Wha…" He couldn't even make the word out.

"I'm sorry you weren't there...you know, when my parents met your parents but—"

"Jesus feckin' Christ…"

Sybil giggled. Somehow she wanted to cry again. "You asked and after your surgery it just made sense."

Tom's mouth curled into an almost goofy smile. "So you live here now?"

"I do."

"With me? You live here now with me? We live together?"

"You weren't out for very long, Tom," Sybil grumbled. "You're making it sound like you've lost your memory and—"

Her mouth was stunted by his lips moving forcefully against her own. His hands were pressed to her backside, giving Sybil plenty of room to cup his cheeks as the kiss deepened. "It's okay then?"

"Yeah," Tom chuckled breathily. "Feck yeah it's okay." He kissed her once more, this time with a mouth that was hesitant to pull away. When they did it was a slow detach. "Your parents met my parents?"

"They did."

Tom paused. "How was that?"

"Great, actually."

"Yeah?"

"I think your parents were a bit overwhelmed by my parents but I'd say they got along. They talked far more than I did."

"Did you miss me?" Tom jested.

But Sybil's eyes were intense now and she spoke with a voice that did not waiver. "Of course I did."

Tom was hugging her once more, this time wrapping his arms all the way around her form so he could place his chin upon the top of her head. "I'm going to need you to stop crying, Syb. I'm okay now. I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded but said nothing.

"Except for the shower," Tom soon mumbled, causing the laughter Sybil created to vibrate against his chest. "You want to join me? I think I might need some help."

Sybil grinned. "Yeah?"

"I wouldn't want to fall or…" his voice dragged as he watched Sybil shrug out of her shirt. She kicked out of her shoes and took her hair out of its clip before disappearing into the bathroom. "What did you say about my legs? That they were—"

When Tom entered the bathroom Sybil was standing before him, nearly naked. Her shirt and jeans were in separate heaps, dotting the cream-colored room in pops of color. Tom's mouth was so dry he was incapable of words, somehow the sight of her made moving difficult too. Even as Sybil reached into the shower to turn on the water, Tom was motionless.

"Really?" Sybil commented. "You're acting like a—" Suddenly Tom was in front of her, pressing his mouth firmly against hers so she could join him in his breathlessness.

His cheeks were red and he wondered if it was his clothed state that had him feeling so warm next to Sybil. "This shower might be a bad idea."

"Yeah?" Sybil teased as she stepped on to the tile. The water coated her shoulder as she waited for him, both wasting no time once they were both under the water's stream.

Tom couldn't stop kissing her and he thanked her body for the way it fit so perfectly against his own, most notably blocking him from the constant moisture that now coated her back. As his lips traveled south, Sybil used the reprieve to remind him of her earlier warning. "No sex, Tom…"

"I know," he purred, mumbling into her skin. "I missed you, s'all…" But his hand dropped down, slipping from her hip to cup at the warm skin at the apex of her thighs. Sybil's mouth dropped open, but she stiffened again, moving so she could push his hand away, mostly for her own benefit.

Tom gave in, grabbing for Sybil's shampoo bottle, happy to see it placed right beside his own. "I wonder if you'd be as strict with all of this if you weren't my doctor."

"I'm not your doctor anymore," Sybil reminded.

Tom ignored the correction as his thumbs worked soothing circles upon Sybil's scalp. She merely clutched him, enjoying the fact that she wasn't stuck in this shower alone anymore. The past few mornings left her feeling frigid as this room was impervious to the steam her showers procured. Now the glass that they stood behind was fogged over, hiding the way Sybil dropped her head back to rinse her hair out, giving Tom plenty of space to press a hand to her back, supporting her frame while he took her chest in his mouth.

"Tommm…"

"Do you want me to stop?"

The confidence Tom felt when Sybil's mouth dropped open without an answer had him smirking as he shifted to suck at her other breast. Her hands remained stiff upon his head, practically insisting that he continue with his ministrations. It was the first time Sybil realized just how untouched she'd felt this past week. Aside from the days of packing up and moving boxes and the work hours she'd put in at the hospital she had essentially closed herself off from the world. In a way she was in mourning, preparing herself for the loss of a man that was currently turning her skin into various constellations of lavender and blue.

Sybil's sense had her catapulted back into the moment, reminding her that Tom was here and would be here long after they emerged from the steam of their shared shower. "I don't but we have to stop," she finally whispered. She separated herself from him and Tom watched as she rid her curls of both soap and moisture. Soon she was gone, wrapping herself in a towel, donating the rest of the now-cooling water to all of Tom's skin.

Even when Tom emerged he was drawn to her. Sybil now sat on the edge of his bed — their bed — and he went to her and pressed a kiss to her cheek before moving to his closet — their closet — to change.

"That wasn't very fair," he remarked, now standing with his back to her as he applied aftershave to his cheeks.

Sybil smirked but her gaze remained down at her phone. "You weren't being very fair."

"I wasn't fair? You said no sex and then got naked in the shower. You know that's my weakness…" Sybil smirked and looked away, only causing Tom to continue. "But I think I was being plenty fair," Tom returned. "Selfless too."

"Well I didn't feel comfortable…" Sybil's voice trailed off, her lips turning into a smile, as Tom turned to her quickly, ready to question the statement she had not yet made.

"Comfortable? Excuse me?"

"I may not be your doctor anymore but I am a doctor—"

"You're my girlfriend."

"I am," she beamed, all without apology. "But sex could literally kill you and—"

"We weren't having sex."

"We were having pre-sex," Sybil explained, almost in agreement.

Tom chuckled. He was too elated to be home and in Sybil's company to put up a fight. As soon as he was in bed he was pulling her close, wrapping a strong arm around her stomach. He didn't care that the lights were still on, or that he had yet to take his pulse, a task Dr. Frye had asked him to perform each night before bed. Tom only cared that Sybil was pressed into him and that he was free to love her as he pleased.

Sybil sighed out. She wasn't crying and that was a miracle in it of itself. Even so she felt the weight on her shoulders, a pressure Tom's touch couldn't quite eradicate. "I know you said you weren't going anywhere but I just wanted to say that it would be okay if you did."

Tom blinked. "What?"

Sybil turned over so she was facing Tom and so he was looking down at her, now concerned. "I, uh...I accidentally found something while I was moving my things in and I wanted to talk to you about it."

Tom quickly thought of all of the fragments of his life that could have absentmindedly disappeared into the recesses of his flat over the years. "Oh fuck…"

Sybil laughed. "It's okay...I just...there was a letter."

"A letter?"

"From Ireland. Dublin, actually. And it was personal and it seemed so ridiculous because I honestly didn't know people wrote letters anymore but it seemed this person wanted you to know how much time they put into their response—"

"They did."

Sybil's mouth curled inward. "Why didn't you tell me you had a job offer?"

Tom shrugged. The immature exterior he wore upon entering this room was suddenly abandoned, bringing to light just how exhausted he felt. "I've had a lot of job offers, Sybil."

"Then?"

"I have a great job..."

"But you'd be closer to your family."

"But I'd be far from you," he returned immediately.

Sybil sighed. "I could go with you."

"I already turned the job down. Months ago. I don't want it."

"But there's more?"

"A few. I'll admit I got an email from a professor at Yale a few weeks back and I seriously considered taking him up on his offer but it was an adjunct position so I didn't—"

"I can get a job anywherel, Tom. You know that."

"Yeah? Well I can too."

"I'd move with you. I'd do it and I wouldn't think twice."

Tom shook his head in dismissal but smiled all the same. "I know you would."

"I need you to tell me about these things."

"We weren't—"

"But we are now," she reminded. "So if you ever do get an offer from Yale...or Dublin or Paris or wherever else...I'm not scared anymore. We've made it this far and I've made up my mind about how I want to spend the rest of my life...you know that. I can't have you making decisions because you're afraid of how I'll react. Let's...I want us to make these decisions together."

"Yeah...of course."

"For example," she exhaled, "Dr. Frye wants me to go to Prague for a bit."

"A bit?" Tom was curious but happy for the conversation's pivot.

"A week or two...I'm not entirely sure. He's giving me a second chance and I can't mess this up this time."

"It won't be me so I don't think you'll have to worry about that."

Sybil beamed as she placed a tender hand to Tom's cheek. "It's always you now. No, not for this surgery but this is my life now...you," she emphasized, "are my life now. It's clear to everyone else and it's clear to me. We've made it through so much and I'm ready for all of this to be easy. I'm free to make my own choices now and I'm choosing you. So if this surgery has given you second thoughts I'm going to need you to tell me about that too."

Tom smirked. "No second thoughts. Did you...that's all you found?" he asked simply. "Just a letter?"

"Is there more?"

"No...well, there was," he conceded. "I almost...I think I almost proposed to you the morning before we left."

"You think?"

"I know," he corrected. "I did. Almost."

"Maybe we should be questioning if _you_ thought you would die."

"I did," Tom admitted honestly. "Or at least I was accepting that was a possibility. And I didn't want to go anywhere that would leave you doubting how I felt about you. Even as they put me out I wanted to tell them to stop. I was terrified, Sybil."

"I know," she nodded in earnest. "Me too."

"But I'm here now and—"

"No ring then?" Sybil joked.

With her smiling, Tom couldn't help but to join her. "There's a ring. My gran's ring," he explained. "But—"

"You lost it?" Sybil guessed.

Again Tom was smirking. If he didn't love her so much he would have been annoyed by yet another interruption. She was showing her cards; Sybil was terrified too, this time for an entirely different reason. "It's still in my bag, actually. I was going to give it to you as a promise...you know, you could wear it until I was better and then we could go to the jeweler's and design you a ring of your own with the diamonds."

Sybil's mouth fell open. "Tom…"

"But I didn't die," he stated, forcing out a laugh to keep himself from crying. "So we have time."

Sybil nodded and dropped her head to his chest, listening to the same heart she'd helped to fix. "We do have time. But that doesn't mean I want to wait. I've waited for a long time and I know you have too."

"We both have," he agreed. "And I don't want to wait either."

* * *

Is anyone still reading this? If you are I LOVE YOU and also I AM SO SO SORRY that I have become the author I used to hate. I seriously used to pride myself on my constant updates but I don't know what's happened to me recently. It certainly wasn't because I wasn't feeling the love last chapter - those of you who are still reading are the absolute best and I cherish your reviews so so much!

This last chapter is a bit of an epilogue and hopefully it won't take me as long to post as this did. Fingers crossed!

x. Elle


	36. What A Love

"How are you feeling?"

Tom looked up from his phone. He had been waiting for their meeting to start and now that it was he somehow felt inconvenienced. His eyes remained trained on the glass of his screen even as he slid the device into his pocket. "Grand," he stated, rather honestly.

Dr. Frye smirked too. "Yeah?"

"Am I not supposed to feel good?" Tom paused, sharing momentary glances with Ben and William. "You all really thought I was going to die, din'ya?"

"No one thought you were going to die," William gave, rolling his eyes.

"We didn't know what was going to happen," Ben added.

"Well it's happened," Tom stated plainly. "I'm fine and I still feel fine and I can't wait to never have to come into this goddamn office ever again."

Dr. Frye, who had disappeared into the foreground to jot down several notes in Tom's file, stepped forward once more. "If it's any consolation, Tom, I can't wait to never have to see you again either."

Tom chuckled. "S'alright if you'll miss me."

"I won't," he promised. "But we all know you'll miss this."

Tom leaned back to show his offense. "This?"

"The attention," Dr. Frye explained.

"I get plenty of attention elsewhere."

It was the doctor's turn to laugh, giving Tom one last eye roll. "I'm sure you do." He shifted, his feet mimicking his eyes in an attempt to bring them all back to seriousness as he also changed the subject. "So what do you think? Do you want another month on your medication schedule or do you think you're ready to come off of it?"

"You mean I don't have to be on meds for the rest of my life? Are you feckin' codding me?"

"All depends on you and how healthy you want to be. Do you plan to smoke again? What about the drinking?"

"I've been drinking for awhile now...was that not supposed to be happening?"

"In excess?"

"Not…no." Tom's eyes caught on William's as if to acknowledge a night they'd shared just last week when Gwen and he had come over to see Tom and Sybil's flat and didn't leave until the following morning when their wine hangover was only beginning to dwindle.

"And the smoking?"

"No."

"Are you back at the gym?"

"I don't go to the gym," Tom gave frankly. "But if I did, then no...I'm not. You didn't tell me I could go back to exercising."

"You're not running?"

"Not very much. I was waiting for your approval."

"You can run, Tom."

Tom grinned. "Fast? Can I run fast?"

Dr. Frye's gaze narrowed in a mix of confusion and irritation. "Yes, you can run fast. You can resume all physical activity."

" _All_ physical activity?"

It was William's turn to roll his eyes and now even Ben had to laugh as he and Tom both waited for an answer. "Yes, Tom. All physical activity. Running. Football—"

"Sex?"

"Sex," the doctor confirmed.

"Grand."

Dr. Frye continue to shake his head in quiet acknowledgement of Tom's predictable immaturity. "Anything else?"

"Nope."

He ripped at his notepad, extending a prescription script Tom's way as if to mark the end of the conversation. "Here. Let's go one last trial but on half dosage. If you start to feel different or if your chest pains return—"

Tom jumped down off the patient's table and was already headed for the door. "I know," he groaned. "I will give you a call."

Dr. Frye said nothing. As William and Ben exited the room, he turned his back to Tom who was now throwing his coat on. Though he did not see him, Dr. Frye felt the way Tom remained long after the boys were gone.

"Yes, Tom?"

"I, uh, I wanted to say thank you."

He finally turned around, now crossing his arms as he took Tom in again. "For what?"

"For all of this. For fixing my heart, I guess. I actually did think I was going to die and I'm glad I didn't."

Dr. Frye snickered. "I'm glad you didn't too."

"And I'm sorry that—"

Dr. Frye raised a hand as if to still Tom's tongue. "It's fine."

"It's fine now," Tom said, almost as if to agree. "But it wasn't and I'm sorry and I really appreciate what you've done for Sybil…"

"Don't mention it."

"Well I—"

"No, really, Tom. Don't mention it."

The Irishman was rendered speechless, especially as he was left alone again, this time when Dr. Frye left the room without so much as a nod in his direction. There was no need for either man to pretend that this was the end of their relationship. Sybil was nearly Dr. Frye's equal now, and their trip to Prague last month was one of many they'd take together in the next several years. Tom assumed Dr. Frye would attend the wedding they'd someday have and maybe soon the pair would be able to permanently exist beyond their roles of doctor and patient. This last check up was the first step toward that reality.

Alone Tom was able to leave the moment behind him. He had tossed his jacket on without thinking, perhaps out of nervousness, despite knowing he'd likely be in this hospital for several more hours. He now tapped at his phone screen, and when he saw Sybil had yet to text him back he dialed her number and brought the device to his ear. It rang once, then twice, coaxing Tom into an alcove where he was distracted by the city life below while he waited to hear her voice. Just as he was ready to disconnect the call he saw her, all of her petite form clothed in her typical teal scrubs appearing in a blur as she passed by. Tom grabbed for her wrist, shocking Sybil but procuring a smile from her lips before he was able to replace her grin with a kiss.

"Mmm, hiii," she sang as he pulled away. Just being in his arms had her softening, and the fact that the hallway was empty and without noise found the two stumbling back against the wall for privacy they didn't seem to need. "How was your appointment?"

"Good," Tom nodded, all before kissing the tip of her nose once more. "How was your day?"

"Bollocks," Sybil stated without hesitation. But her gaze remained on his lips, only causing herself to smile once more. "It's better now."

Tom smirked before nipping at her lips again. "Dr. Frye said we can have sex."

Sybil giggled. "Oh did he?"

"He did. I didn't even have to ask."

"Well I hope you didn't tell him we've been having sex for a couple weeks now…" Sybil's voice faded into Tom's skin as she pressed a kiss to his pulsepoint. They had been running late for work that morning, leaving them both unsatisfied when it was only a simple kiss they'd exchanged before departing on the tube.

"No," Tom chuckled. His hand were on her hips now, stroking the soft expanse of skin beneath her shirt. "Of course not." Soon his mouth was on her neck as her own fingers danced on the straight line of his belt, tapping at the leather as if to tease.

"We have to go," Sybil managed through ragged breathing.

"Almost. I missed you."

Her voice was caught in her throat and for a moment Sybil felt the moment still while she continued to take him in. All of this was so easy now and yet she was forever breathless hearing him tell her such lovely things. Sybil couldn't even reply; she only submitted to the way he held her, kissing her lips in a way that only echoed his words.

Finally they detached. Tom buried his nose in the crook of her neck while Sybil's hands rubbed up and down his back, keeping him close. "Have you gone down yet?"

"No," Sybil gave with a laugh as if to show how ridiculous his question seemed. "I told you I'd wait."

Tom grabbed for her hand, slowly pulling them out of the alcove and down the hall. Still clasping her fingers, he kissed her knuckles as they continued walking out of the cardiology wing toward the elevator.

They rode the lift to the fourth floor, holding hands the entire way. It wasn't until they reached Mary's room that they detached, if only to fit through the door and reconnect when they both waited, effortlessly close to one another, for the happy couple to look up. In Mary's arms she held their newborn baby boy. The eldest Crawley girl was so elated she didn't seem to care that strangers were seeing her barefaced. Her hair was pulled back with the help of a thick headband, revealing freckles Tom had never seen before. The past few weeks found Tom spending more time with Mary and Matthew, but even this was different, as if the moment they were about to share was a silent nod toward Tom's status in Sybil's life going forward.

"My goodness, he is precious," Sybil sang as she stepped toward Mary and instantly bent down so she was at the child's level. She stroked at his forehead, feeling the warmth beneath her fingers as the baby repositioned in his mother's arms. Mary and Matthew now watched Sybil with as much amusement as they had their firstborn.

"Do you want to hold him?" Mary offered.

Sybil's eyes widened. "Yes! Obviously!" she gave in excitement. Slowly Mary shifted, pulling her baby boy from the crook of her arm in a way that would make the tradeoff an easy one. He was fast asleep and as he settled into his aunt's arms, baby Max seemed to be none the wiser. Even as Sybil rocked the child gently against her frame, he kept his eyes shut. It was only when Tom approached, that he opened his eyes, blinking in a rather pronounced way.

Sybil giggled as her eyes darted back and forth between her nephew and her boyfriend. Tom was wonderful with children, but Mary and Matthew did not know this, meaning their own attention was devoted in a similar way. Both watched as Tom leaned down to smile at the boy, giving the child permission to grab at his finger. His digit seemed massive compared to the petite grip of Max's bright pink hand. Even as he towered over the child, Tom felt quite small in his presence. It had been years since he'd been around a child so small and with Sybil holding a baby, he found himself making plans far beyond this hospital room. Tom couldn't disguise this as the case either, shown mostly when he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, all before returning his smiles toward the child.

"You can hold him too, Tom," Mary offered softly.

Tom shook his head. "Oh, it's fine."

Mary looked to her husband then back again. "Alright well we'd like you to."

Matthew stood up straight and placed a reassuring hand to Mary's shoulder as he joined the conversation. "The child should know his godparents..."

Sybil's eyes widened as she looked to Tom then immediately to her brother-in-law. "What?"

Mary rolled her eyes. "As if you thought I'd give the title to anyone else."

Sybil was so shocked she effortlessly passed the child to Tom, giving him no other option but to cradle Max against his chest. Even amongst Mary and Matthew's news, he found himself distracted by the small life he held swaddled in his arms.

Mary was ignoring her sister, moving instead to crane her neck so she could get a better glimpse of her son. "I hope that's alright, Tom. We've been meaning to ask the both of you but time has escaped us. I figured…"

"God, I...thank you," he chuckled nervously. "He's...he's a handsome babe. Very happy, it seems. I'm honored."

"No need," Mary dismissed, "Just return the favor when you have kids."

Tom looked to Sybil. She looked away and he let out a stunted laugh to show his discomfort. "We're a bit far from that now."

"Good," Mary said quickly. "Give Mum and Dad the traditional marriage they want, Sybil. Don't announce your pregnancy on the altar in front of two-hundred of Mum and Dad's closest friends."

Sybil grinned. "We wouldn't steal your thunder like that."

"No," Mary gave lowly, "you'd do something insane like not getting married at all which—"

"We'll get married," Tom promised.

The answer had everyone caught off guard, even Sybil who was more emboldened by his courage than surprised at hearing him share their plans. Already she wore his grandmother's wedding band on a chain around her neck and yesterday evening they had their second appointment with the jeweler to design what would soon become Sybil's engagement ring. No one in this room knew any of this; Sybil was hesitant to share her love as loudly as she once wished she could. It wasn't because she was afraid Tom would leave again but more because she was still so shocked to find him by her side and for such a thing to be so incredibly effortless.

The moment faded to nothingness and when Robert and Cora arrived, Sybil and Tom were huddled in a small mass on the sofa, both whispering comments about their godchild as if they were the only ones in the room. Their exit came sometime after, with Sybil reluctantly handing her nephew back to her sister, all with a promise that they'd be making the family dinner the following night when Mary and Matthew returned home from the hospital with Max. Tom shook Robert's hand and even gave Cora a hug before departing. All of this happened so quickly Tom was forced to remind himself that his feelings for Sybil, in all of their intensity and resilience, had existed for such a long time that the speed made sense.

They didn't discuss their past now, at least not the parts that were still raw and seemingly always would be. They did, however, open up more when it came to all of the other lovely memories they'd created before their falling out. It was freeing to share those stories and to remember, if only for a few moments, how insane it felt to be that in love at such a young age. It was almost as insane as the reality that currently defined them where such a long was so strong it existed even now.

As they walked out of the hospital and toward the garage, Tom made no small task of grabbing Sybil's hand. As her fingers wrapped around his own, he pulled her in. She beamed, accepting the kiss he placed to her cheek. It was only when they were at their vehicle did Sybil keep Tom from opening her door, instead gripping his arms so she could taste him once more.

Pulling away, she was hesitant to open her eyes and greet the fleeting night. "You better be careful about what you tell my family. They'll take you for your word and—"

"And what? I mean I assume they'll be invited to our wedding, no?" Tom jested, all with a kiss to Sybil's pulsepoint.

She raised her brows in question. "A wedding? When is this wedding?"

"Does it matter?" he tried again, this time spending time just behind her ear. "They'll be a wedding and they'll be babies."

"Oh will there?" Sybil smirked. "When?"

Tom smiled too, almost in challenge. "I don't know. We've always done things at our own pace."

Sybil was giddy with Tom's hands strong on her hip bones. "We have," she agreed in a whisper.

* * *

This wasn't ever meant to be a very long/heavy chapter so I hope that's not what you were expecting. Just something sweet to tie up loose ends. Do I have a sequel planned? Well this world continues to exist in my head, sure. Maybe I'll do a few one-shots…

Until then — THANK YOU so much for the love and support this story has received! Thanks for believing in these two and sharing your kind thoughts as I took them on this wild ride. I hope their ending (this ending...a temporary one...maybe) did not disappoint.

x. Elle


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